Percival Constantine - [Nakamura Detective Agency 01] - Fallen Idol

by Constantine

  He walked to the front door and stepped down to the genkan. Without even checking, Yuki opened the door. Kyoko rose from the table and crossed over to the genkan as well, standing behind him. Peering over his shoulder, Kyoko could see two men in police uniforms standing at the door. And in front of them, a thirty-something man in a dark suit with handsome features.

  “Arima?” asked Kyoko.

  Ryusuke Arima gave her a quick glare, but focused his attention on the kid. “Yuki Ichikawa?”

  “Yes, that’s me.”

  Arima stepped into the genkan, which forced Yuki to take a step back. Kyoko never stopped staring at him. “What the hell’s this about?”

  “Yuki Ichikawa, you are under arrest for the murder of Akane Suzuki,” said Arima, continuing to ignore Kyoko.

  “What? But I didn’t—”

  “This is ridiculous, Arima,” said Kyoko. “What’s going on here?”

  Arima gestured and the officers stepped in, flanking Ichikawa. “Don’t make any trouble, kid. Just come along quietly.”

  Yuki glanced in Kyoko’s direction. She closed her eyes and nodded. Yuki relented and allowed the officers to escort him out. Arima remained in the genkan for a few moments, staring at Kyoko with a grin on his face.

  “So now it’s a murder?” asked Kyoko. “Thought you were dead-set on it being a suicide.”

  “Just doin’ my job, Nakamura,” said Arima. “Just doin’ my job.”

  He turned to the door and walked out. Kyoko remained standing alone in the genkan, just staring out the open door and watching the police car take Yuki Ichikawa off to a holding cell.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Nobu walked first into the basement bar and Kyoko followed a few steps behind him. She heard a grunt come from behind the counter as soon as they entered and Kyoko looked at the big guy who manned the bar—must be Dayu, the guy Nobu told her about.

  “What are you doin’ here?” asked Dayu.

  “This is a bar, ain’t it?” asked Nobu, the Kansai dialect stronger than normal. “So you want customers or don’t you?”

  Dayu crossed his arms and remained still, glaring at Nobu. Clearly, the two guys didn’t like each other. Like alpha dogs sizing each other up. Kyoko decided to be the one to intervene, so she slid onto one of the stools and stared at the bartender.

  “Look, we’re not here for any trouble. We just want to talk to Jun.”

  “What makes you think Jun wants to talk to you?” asked Dayu.

  “He’s gonna have to,” said Nobu.

  Dayu looked like he was about ready to clock Nobu. Kyoko’s hand slid into her jacket, her fingers rubbing up against the TITAN-2500K stun gun she kept in case of emergency. If Dayu was going to cause trouble here, she was going to be ready for it.

  “Maybe I’m not makin’ myself clear.” Dayu stepped forward, resting his palms on the counter and leaning towards Nobu, glaring him in the eyes. “You’re not welcome in my bar. So take your little whore somewhere else.”

  That tears it.

  Kyoko took the weapon from her jacket and jammed it against Dayu’s arm. Electricity coursed through his body and he spasmed, jumping away from her and knocking some bottles over behind the bar.

  When Dayu looked up at her, Kyoko held the stun gun pointed at the ceiling. She hit the trigger again so he could hear the clicking and see the sparks.

  “The hell’s the matter with you?”

  “The only thing I like less than assholes wasting my time is being called a whore,” said Kyoko. “Jun. Now. Or you’ll learn real fast why even Nobu’s afraid to piss me off.”

  Dayu’s gaze went to Nobu for confirmation. Sure enough, he had a pretty broad grin on his face, bordering on laughter. Kyoko hit the trigger again and the clicking brought Dayu’s attention back to her.

  “Don’t make me ask you again. I hate repeating myself.”

  The bartender made himself scarce, quickly disappearing into the back area. Nobu finally allowed the chuckle he’d been holding in to escape his lips and he sat on the stool.

  “Damn, boss. You are cold-blooded.”

  “Don’t let anyone walk all over you, that’s a lesson I learned a long time ago,” she said.

  A few moments later, a young man around Nobu’s age emerged. Shaggy hair, bad goatee, and clothes at least a size too big for him. He also didn’t look happy to see the two of them.

  “Jun Yamazawa?” asked Kyoko.

  “What’s she doin’ here, Tsuji?” asked Jun. “Told you I’d help you out. Not her.”

  “Something’s up, felt it warranted a face-to-face meeting,” said Kyoko. “That man Nobu asked you about. Did you get any information about him as a buyer?”

  “I don’t need any heat, okay?” said Jun. “I get home today, turn on the TV, an’ right there is the guy Tsuji here asked me about, bein’ carted off by the cops. Find out they’re sayin’ he bought drugs for Akane Suzuki, then one day, he kills her. This is makin’ business hard on me. I told my guys they gotta lay low for the time being. Vice is starting to pay a lot more attention to Shinsekai tonight.”

  “So why the hell are you pissed at us?” asked Nobu.

  “What, you think I’m an idiot?”

  “Do you really want me to answer that?” asked Kyoko.

  Jun scoffed. “I figure since you guys are the ones came around askin’ about him in the first place, you must be the ones who tipped off the cops.”

  “You figured wrong,” said Kyoko. “In fact, I think that kid is being set up.”

  Jun grunted. “Yeah, no shit.”

  “Why do you say that?” asked Nobu.

  “’Cuz I did what you asked, I looked into him. If he killed Akane, that’s one thing. But he wasn’t buyin’ any drugs. Not from anyone I’ve ever met.”

  “You’re sure about that?” asked Kyoko.

  Jun held his hands out to the side. “Did I fuckin’ stutter or something?”

  Kyoko placed the Titan back in her jacket and produced a pack of Seven Stars. She took one and offered the pack to the two men. Nobu refused, but Jun accepted one. Setting the pack on the counter, Kyoko pushed the switch on her lighter and held it out to Jun. He placed the tip into the open flame and took a few puffs. Once his cigarette was taken care of, Kyoko lit her own and put the lighter on top of the pack.

  “There was a guy I saw the other day. At Ichikawa’s. Thin beard, hair cut so short to the scalp that he was almost bald.”

  Jun removed the cigarette from his mouth and waved his hand as a gesture for her to continue, the smoke from the cigarette leaving circling trails in his wake.

  “He left some pills there. I believe Nobu already told you about those.”

  “Yeah, I remember,” said Jun.

  “They were amphetamines?”

  He nodded while sucking on the cigarette. With an exhale of smoke, he responded. “That they were.”

  “Why would he leave those pills in Ichikawa’s apartment if Ichikawa wasn’t involved with drugs?” asked Nobu.

  Jun shrugged. “Maybe he was placing an order for someone else.”

  “Doesn’t seem likely,” said Kyoko. “Ichikawa had been staying with his mother ever since he heard about Akane. Why would he have the pills dropped off at his apartment like that when he knew he wouldn’t be there?”

  “Whoever killed her,” said Nobu. “Tryin’ to implicate Ichikawa. Make the cops think he gave her the pills.”

  “That’s right.” Kyoko looked at Jun. “Does that description ring any bells? You know of anyone like that?”

  Jun leaned over the bar and tapped the cigarette against the rim of an ashtray. “I dunno, that’s not exactly a concrete description. There anything else you remember ’bout him?”

  “It was in Shinsekai, middle of the day.” Kyoko paused, trying to recall other details. “I remember he had some rings on his right hand.”

  “Rings…” Jun cringed. “Aw shit, it’s probably Masaki.”

  “Masaki?” asked Nobu.

>   “Yohei Masaki, wears a bunch of rings on his hand,” said Jun.

  “One of yours?” asked Kyoko.

  “Nah, not one of mine. Mean bastard. Don’t wanna get on his bad side. That’s why he wears those rings, likes to beat the crap outta guys who cross him while wearin’ ’em.”

  “Do you know where I can find him?” asked Kyoko.

  “I dunno if you wanna know that,” said Jun. “Like I said, he’s a mean bastard.”

  “Nobu said you were a fan of Akane’s. Do you want to see her killer brought to justice?”

  Jun took another drag on the cigarette. Silence crept into the air. After a few more moments, he finally said, “Okay. I’ll tell you where to find him.”

  “Great.”

  Jun held up his hand, index and middle finger extended. “On two conditions. One, no cops. Two, he never learns I’m the one who told you about him. We got a deal?”

  “Hell n—”

  “Deal,” said Kyoko, cutting off Nobu’s rejection.

  “Hey, hold up!”

  Kyoko had been the first one out of Dayu’s basement bar, quickly returning to the streets. She’d already passed a few buildings and alleys by the time Nobu called out to her. Stopping and turning, she watched him jogging to catch up to her.

  “What is it, Nobu? I want to get home.”

  “Back there.” Nobu jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “What were you thinking?”

  “I was thinking I need to find Masaki and figure out just what it is he knows. About Yuki, about Akane, about all of this.”

  “What if the cops need Jun? How are you gonna tell ’em you found Masaki without revealing you broke into Ichikawa’s place?”

  Kyoko scoffed. “Who are you kidding, Nobu? Even if we do crack this case, what makes you think the cops will give a shit? They’ve already arrested Ichikawa for the murder.”

  “So what, you wanna give up?”

  “No, I want to finish this case. I want to present my report to the Suzukis and after that, we’ll see what happens. Maybe the evidence will exonerate Ichikawa, maybe it won’t. But I doubt it’ll lead to any future arrests.”

  Nobu’s eyes stayed fixed on her face. Kyoko knew that look in his eyes. He was worried. And perhaps, maybe even a little disappointed.

  “If you’re going to go after Masaki, you’re taking a risk. You heard what Jun said about that guy, he’s a hothead.”

  “I can handle a drug dealer.” Kyoko pivoted on her heel and started walking back down the street.

  As she continued walking, she heard Nobu calling her name, but she ignored him. This case was bringing back memories of what had happened years ago. Once again, a victimized girl depended on her to bring the perpretrator to justice. But the police wouldn’t do anything before. Too little evidence to charge him.

  It felt like Kyoko was looking at a similar situation. Even if Masaki did know something about what had happened to Akane, who would believe the word of a drug dealer? The prosecution would tear apart his credibility.

  A theory had come to Kyoko during the talk with Yuki. But if it were true, she’d need something a lot stronger than Yohei Masaki. No one would believe someone like that over a man like Jo Miyashita, a man with serious connections in entertainment and politics. She’d be lucky if she could even get the police to question him, let alone bring forward a case.

  No, something else was necessary. Although Kyoko had no idea what that something was.

  A chill wind blew through the streets of Shinsekai, causing Kyoko to shiver beneath her leather jacket.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Segments of loud bangs against the door were broken up by repetitive pushes of the doorbell. Kyoko stirred in bed and slowly sat up, rubbing her eyes. She climbed out of bed and took a white yukata robe from a hook on the door of her bedroom and pulled it on. While crossing from the bedroom to the genkan, Kyoko tied the belt around her waist and opened the door. A sigh escaped her lips when she saw the man standing just outside her apartment, wearing a suit, hands stuffed in his pockets, and a stern expression on his face.

  “Kyoko,” said Hashimoto.

  Great. He only called her by her proper name when he was really pissed off.

  “Sensei,” she replied.

  “I think you’d better invite me in.” His tone showed he was in no mood for games. Kyoko gestured into her apartment and Hashimoto entered, pulling his shoes off and leaving them in the genkan.

  “You want some coffee?” She turned from the door and walked across the hardwood floor to the kitchen area. Hashimoto followed her, hands back in his pockets. A small table with two chairs sat in the center and he took a seat without being offered one.

  “Black,” he said. “And hot.”

  Kyoko took a container of ice coffee from the refrigerator. She poured some in a coffee cup for her guest and put it in the microwave. While waiting for the appliance to do its thing, she dropped a few cubes into a tall glass and filled it with cold coffee. As soon as she finished putting the remainder back in the refrigerator, the microwave beeped.

  The steaming mug she set in front of Hashimoto and she took the chair across from him. He took a few slow sips of the coffee, staring at her for several seconds before speaking. Kyoko lit a cigarette while she waited for him to make the first move.

  “We going to do this all day?” she asked, exhaling smoke. “’Cause I got shit to do.”

  “Oh, I’m sure you do.”

  “You arrested Ichikawa yesterday.”

  Hashimoto nodded.

  “What happened to suicide?”

  “Anonymous tip came in.”

  “Someone just tells you that Ichikawa killed Akane and you believe it without checking?”

  “What do you take me for?” grunted Hashimoto. “Of course we checked it out. Found out he hadn’t been back to his apartment in almost a month, found out about how he and his girlfriend were fighting the whole time, found out about what she did for a living. But you know the one thing that threw me off?”

  “What?”

  “The anonymous source told us if we checked his apartment, we’d find drugs in there. So we did. And there was nothing. Then I remembered the other night when you and I met for drinks.” Hashimoto fixed a hard stare on her. “Those pills you took from Ichikawa’s apartment.”

  “I told you, they were planted there.”

  “Well right now, to someone who doesn’t trust you, it looks like you’re aiding in the coverup of a murder. Plus, you were at Ichikawa’s family home when Arima came and picked him up. Don’t think he didn’t make a note of that.”

  “I’m sure he did, and I know just where he can stick it.”

  “Are you incapable of recognizing just how much shit you got mixed up with?”

  “Listen to me, okay? It wasn’t Ichikawa. Nor was it that landlord. I told you, there was a third man who saw Akane that night.”

  “And who the hell’s gonna believe that?” asked Hashimoto. “You removed the condoms from her apartment, so you’ve got no evidence anyone was there. That landlord? Just to keep the cops away from him, he’ll gladly tell them he saw Ichikawa go into Suzuki’s apartment and never saw him come out again.”

  “Then there’s one more lead, the drug dealer I saw at Ichikawa’s place.”

  Hashimoto scoffed. Shaking his head, he sipped the coffee. “Have you taken complete leave of your senses? Even if the drug dealer swears on his family shrine that he planted the drugs to incriminate Ichikawa, who the hell would believe him?”

  “Then let me bring in what I’ve gathered,” said Kyoko. “I’ve recorded just about every interview I’ve done.”

  Hashimoto sighed. “If I could, I would. But Arima’s the active lead on this case.”

  Kyoko shook her head. “But you’ve got seniority…”

  He rolled his eyes. “Doesn’t matter. The people upstairs have their eye on him. He’s very popular, or so I’m continuously told. And the last thing he or the department wants is you ha
ving anything to do with this case.”

  Kyoko tapped the cigarette against the ashtray and took another drag. “You know what’s going to happen to Yuki.”

  Hashimoto raised both brows while giving a nod. “Yup.”

  “’Round the clock questioning, then a confession, and that’ll be it. Conviction rate preserved.”

  Hashimoto shrugged. “What the hell am I supposed to do? I’m just an old cop they’re itching to throw a sobetsukai for.”

  “Why would they want to give you a farewell party? You’re one of the best cops they’ve ever had.”

  “Politics, as usual. You know I never had much use for that crap.”

  “Then maybe you can help me out with something,” said Kyoko.

  “What?” The tone in Hashimoto’s voice suggested that he already didn’t like this. Part of Kyoko hated having to ask him, but she was running low on options.

  “I need to speak to Jo Miyashita, of Star Rise Entertainment.”

  Hashimoto narrowed his eyes. “Wasn’t that…?”

  “Akane Suzuki’s management company, yes. I found out Akane was in talks with another company, talking about making a comeback as a solo artist.”

  “So what, you think Miyashita had her killed because she found another job?” Hashimoto scoffed. “That’s a real reach.”

  “It probably is, but it’s also the only thing that makes any sense,” said Kyoko.

  Hashimoto held up his hand. “Hold on a minute. Jealous boyfriend pissed off that his girl’s a whore doesn’t add up to you, but rich talent agent pissed off that a fired client found new work does?”

  Kyoko frowned and stamped out the cigarette. It was painful for her to admit it, but he had a very good point. Jo Miyashita may be a creep, but killing Akane just because she had a chance at a comeback? Sure, it might make headlines, maybe there’d be some awkward questions, but how many performers did his company manage? What did it matter if one of them managed to find success with a competitor?

  “Dammit, you’re right. That just doesn’t make a lot of sense, does it?”

  Hashimoto took a long sip of coffee and set the mug down on the table. “Not even a little bit. You’re reaching, Naka-chan.”