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

by Constantine

  “So that’s it?” she asked. “Now you kill me?”

  “I have to hand it to you, you were pretty clever,” said Terada. “When I heard a private investigator was sniffing around Suzuki’s death, I didn’t expect you to get very far. But you went down the rabbit hole. Unfortunately, it was all for nothing. You never should’ve wasted your time.”

  “Maybe you’re right. But there’s something you’ve forgotten.”

  “Oh yeah?” Terada raised the gun, moving his finger into the trigger guard. “And what exactly would that be?”

  “I don’t go down without a fight.”

  In the narrow confines of the car, Kyoko was able to grab his arm and push. The gun went off, punching a hole into the roof. She slammed his head against the window and then quickly scrambled away, opening the driver-side door and falling out the car, landing on the asphalt.

  Terada pointed the gun through the open door. Kyoko kicked it closed just as he fired a second shot.

  She stayed low, crawling along the side of the car. Kyoko moved around to the back, still pressed up against it, listening closely. The sound of the passenger door opening. Feet stepping onto asphalt. The door closing again.

  Kyoko reached into her jacket and pulled out the Titan. She got down onto her belly and—slowly, gingerly—crawled under the car. Though she was careful, to her frightened nerves, every move she made sounded like it was far too loud not to be noticed.

  Her heart beat heavy inside her chest. She felt flushed. Adrenaline was kicking in. The smart thing to do would be to use this opportunity to run.

  But if she did that, if she managed to escape, Terada would get back into that Nissan and he’d drive until he put Osaka far in his rear-view mirror. Then he’d drive some more.

  No.

  He wasn’t getting away with this. He didn’t get to ruin an innocent girl’s life, kill her, and then go on to live his life.

  Kyoko made a decision, right then and there. Either Haruo Terada would die this night, or she would.

  His legs were visible in front of the car, two dark stalks against the light cast by the headlamps. Terada moved around from the front of the car to the driver’s side. Kyoko held the stun gun tightly in her hand.

  She could hear him mutter the words, “Fucking bitch…” Then he spoke louder: “Come out now, Nakamura. If I have to find you, it won’t be pleasant. That I can promise.”

  Kyoko slid closer to him, readying the Titan. But just as she was about to thrust it forward, he moved away. She almost audibly cursed, but stopped herself.

  Now he walked to the back of the car. Kyoko rolled from under, moving to the driver’s side. Crouching low, she circled around to the back.

  Terada stood there, peering around the edge. He bent down, about to look under the car. When he did, she moved from her position, jamming the stun gun into his back and holding the button down so it was flush with the rest of the device.

  Volts coursed through Terada’s body. He spasmed and dropped the M37. Kyoko kept the stun gun on him for another few moments and when she pulled away, he braced himself against the side of the car.

  Kyoko grabbed the gun and held it up, pointing it at him. Terada grunted and limped towards her, but Kyoko took a step back to maintain the distance.

  “What are you gonna do?” he muttered. “Shoot me? You stupid bitch, you don’t have it in you—”

  Kyoko pulled the trigger. Four shots rang out in the night, four rounds punching into his chest. She continued to pull, even after the gun clicked on empty chambers.

  Her hand dropped to the side and the gun slipped from her fingers, clattering on the road.

  She took a few steps closer to him, staring down at his body. Terada still moved, a little bit of life remaining in his body. He coughed blood on the dark asphalt and looked at her.

  “You’re about to die. So you might as well tell me. Why Akane? Why go to all this trouble?”

  Terada chuckled and that pushed him into another coughing fit. More blood splattered on the pavement.

  “You…you really think this was my idea?”

  Kyoko knelt down by his side. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “J-just…the hired gun…”

  “Who was it?” asked Kyoko, grabbing his tie. “Miyashita?”

  Terada coughed a few more times. Then, his head fell back. Kyoko released his tie and let his limp, lifeless body fall on the ground.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Kyoko rested the cigarette on the ashtray and refilled the tumbler on her desk with Johnnie Walker Black. She brought the glass to her lips and sipped, staring at the whiteboard she’d brought from the front room into her office.

  All the information they’d gathered on this case. Her eyes went over every scrap of it. Several times, in fact.

  Another sip. The scotch burned as it traveled down her throat. She normally didn’t drink it straight, but tonight she made an exception.

  There was a voice coming from the front entrance to the Nakamura Detective Agency. A soft voice, somewhat unsure of itself. The only active light in the offices was the one that hung over Kyoko’s head.

  After another sip, she called out to her late-night guest, “In here.”

  Footsteps. Then a face peeked into the open doorway. A young, pretty face. Make-up applied in a perfect fashion. Dyed blond hair atop her head. A face filled with innocence.

  But appearances could be deceiving.

  “Ms. Nakamura?” asked Ayano Kuroki as she carefully stepped into the office. “You wanted to speak to me…?”

  “Yes, Ayano. Come in. Sit.” With the glass in her hand, she gestured to the chair in front of her desk.

  Ayano moved slowly—almost cautiously—towards the chair. She sat down in it and noticed the board, staring at it for a few moments. “Is that all about Akane?”

  “It is.” Kyoko put her glass down. She picked up the cigarette and placed it between her lips. “You drink scotch?”

  Ayano shook her head. “No, not really.”

  Kyoko opened the bottom drawer of her desk and pulled out an empty glass. She placed it next to her drink and poured a small amount of Johnnie Walker.

  “Here.” She placed the glass in front of Ayano, who just stared at it. Kyoko took the cigarette from her mouth and exhaled smoke. “It’s just scotch, it won’t bite. Well…not too hard, at least.”

  Ayano picked up the glass, staring at the whiskey inside. She took a careful sip and instantly cringed. “That’s awful.”

  “Acquired taste,” said Kyoko.

  “You said you wanted to talk to me about Mr. Terada?” asked Ayano.

  “I take it you heard what happened?”

  Ayano looked down and gave a solemn nod. “I’m so sorry about what you went through, Ms. Nakamura. I know it couldn’t have been easy. I had no idea that—”

  “Something struck me as odd about Terada,” said Kyoko. “Even if he was obsessed with Akane and wanted to punish her for dating Yuki, that would explain the photographs and the fake stalker, getting her fired. But instead of going after her right away, he waits a year later.”

  Kyoko stood and approached the board. She pulled something out from under the magnet that pinned it there. A business card, one that she handed over to Ayano. A card that had the name SHINZO SOMA stamped on the front and the logo for Top Shelf Entertainment in the corner.

  “Akane had her fall after she began negotiations with Top Shelf. A chance for her to get back on top.” Kyoko returned to her seat and took another sip of her scotch. “Now at first, I thought the timing was suspicious. I thought maybe Miyashita got jealous about Soma snatching up his talent. But though Miyashita’s a creep, he wouldn’t really care about something like this. And it still didn’t explain those photos of Akane and Yuki that got leaked.”

  Kyoko leaned back in her chair. Ayano was still staring at the card.

  “Now sure, it could have been coincidence that Terada decided to finally kill Akane after she s
tarted speaking with Soma. But I don’t believe in coincidences.”

  “I don’t understand,” said Ayano.

  Another sip. “Terada had no real reason to kill Akane. He had no real reason to expose her relationship with Yuki. He didn’t care about her, he told me as much himself. But he had loyalty. To his employer.”

  “I thought you said Mr. Miyashita—”

  “Not Miyashita.” Kyoko leaned forward and set the glass on the desk. “I reviewed those text messages between you and Akane. She told you everything that had gone on in her life. Told you about working at Idol, told you about the men she was seeing. She even told you about that lunch meeting she had with Shinzo Soma. And then, I remembered something else.”

  Kyoko picked up a magazine from the corner of her desk and dropped it in front of Ayano. On the cover was a photograph of Akane. The headline read, “AKANE SUZUKI – AN UNFORTUNATE END TO A TROUBLED LIFE.”

  “The two of you feuded in the past. You had arguments about who was the real star of Koibito.”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “That’s what you told me—in our first interview, you said you only fought with Akane once and it was about Yuki.”

  “Maybe I didn’t want to speak ill of the dead.”

  “Maybe. But the papers said you fought often and Miyashita confirmed that. He also told my associate that Akane was a big loss for the company. At her peak, she got more fan mail than any other client. Yourself included.

  “You resented her for that. So you decided you’d expose her relationship. Let the world know all about her and her high school sweetheart. Knowing full-well the consequences she’d face. And once she was out of the business, you felt like your star had nowhere to go but up. You were happy that she’d fallen from grace, become a hostess who had to fuck to pay the rent. You felt like the punishment fit the crime of crossing you.”

  Ayano’s eyes were wide. She was a good actress, played the part of the innocent waif to perfection. Kyoko had to give her that.

  “Akane never had the slightest idea you were behind it. She thought of you as a sister, even to the end. So when she told you about Soma, excited that she’d have the chance to become a star again, what you saw was a threat. You couldn’t let her steal the spotlight from you again.

  “That’s where Haruo Terada came in. Your loyal bodyguard. Probably paid him extra to do things that Miyashita never knew about.

  “You had him go to the club, chat up Akane. Knowing full-well given their past association, she’d say yes if he offered money to go home with her. Had him slip powdered amphetamines into her drinks all night. Complete with the bottle at her place.”

  Ayano looked down, her voice catching as she began to sob. “Please, stop…”

  “You established an alibi for yourself—vocal lesson with Mai Hoshide, followed by drinks with her. So no one would suspect you had anything to do with it. Add in the supportive text messages and you looked like nothing more than the good friend even Akane thought you were. Then, you leak stories to the tabloids about Akane having a drug problem and you have Terada hire a drug dealer to plant amphetamines in Yuki’s apartment.”

  Kyoko scoffed once she finished the story, taking another sip of the scotch. “I’ve gotta hand it to you, Ayano. You’re good.”

  The girl’s body stopped shaking with small sobs. She looked up, finally. Eyes completely dry.

  “Interesting theory, Detective,” she said. “To tell you the truth, I have no idea why Terada went after Akane. But she was my friend. I loved her. Like a—”

  “Like a sister. I know.” Kyoko leaned forward. “I can’t prove any of this, of course. With Terada dead, I’ve lost the only witness to what you’ve done.”

  “Maybe you should be a bit slower on the trigger in the future.”

  That stung. But she was right. Kyoko became so consumed with rage and the idea of stopping Terada that she inadvertently killed the one man who could testify to Ayano’s part in all this.

  “It’s sad, what happened to Akane,” said Ayano. “But nothing will bring her back now. And like you said, you can’t prove anything. Unless you plan to shoot me as well?”

  Kyoko wanted to. Unfortunately, once more, Ayano was right. The police ruled Terada’s death as a clear case of self-defense. He had the gun and Kyoko managed to get it away from him and used it to save herself.

  But if she killed Ayano Kuroki—regardless of how much the little bitch had it coming—it would look like cold-blooded murder.

  “I just wanted you to know that I figured it out,” said Kyoko, glaring at Ayano.

  “Thank you for the drink, Ms. Nakamura. And the little chat. Again, I’m very sorry about what Terada did to you. I hope you can accept my deepest sympathies.” Ayano stood and bowed. “Have a pleasant evening.”

  A smile spread on the idol’s lips. Not the usual peppy, plastic smile she wore for the cameras and the crowds. No, this one appeared twisted. Malevolent. The smile of someone who knew she’d gotten away with murder.

  Kyoko drank the last of the scotch in her glass and took another long drag on the cigarette as Ayano left the office. Rising from her seat, Kyoko approached the board and looked over it one last time.

  She’d gotten to the truth, but Ayano Kuroki wouldn’t face justice and Kyoko had unwittingly played a part in it. That was hard to deal with, the decision to kill Terada would sit with her. On the other hand, she’d managed to clear Yuki’s name and she put down the triggerman.

  It might not be much, but it was something.

  THANK YOU!

  Thank you for taking the time to read Fallen Idol!

  Indie authors like myself don’t have huge marketing departments to promote our books. Instead, our careers depend on word-of-mouth from readers just like yourself.

  The easiest way to help support an indie author is to leave a review. So if you enjoyed this book, then please post a review of it. Just a few words telling people why you enjoyed it would be wonderful.

  Thanks again!

  Don’t forget to claim your free short story, featuring one of Kyoko’s early cases! Just go to kyoko.percivalconstantine.com!

  A killer is stalking young women in Osaka, and only Kyoko Nakamura can stop him. Pick up Murder Walk, available now!

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  No book is created in a vacuum, and Fallen Idol certainly didn’t prove to be an exception. There are a lot of people to thank for this book you now hold in your hands.

  First and foremost is my ex-wife, Azusa. I chose to write this book while we were still together and when told her I wanted to write a book about a female private investigator in Japan, no one was more excited about the idea than her. And it’s thanks to her that the Japanese words throughout the book are correct.

  Second is Chris Fox. It’s because of Chris that I embarked on this path. His advice encouraged me to try something different with my writing career, and if this book is at all successful, it will be in no small part because of what I’ve learned from his own achievements.

  Third are my beta-readers—Tammi, Mike, and Axel. They gave me some wonderful advice on how to improve the book and pointed out some things that I had completely missed.

  Fourth is Goro Koyama of Japan PI Inc. Mr. Koyama is an esteemed private investigator in Tokyo with years of experience. He was kind enough to take time out of his busy schedule to answer questions I had about the profession.

  Fifth are the members of my author group. These guys have given me tons of advice and support and helped my career advance in ways I never thought possible. Without them, I probably would have given up on publishing long ago.

  Finally, my parents for continuing to support my writing career. Though we’re on different continents at the time of this writing, they still do their part by handing out print copies to anyone who will take them—even if they’re not always happy with the cursing in my books.

  Perry Constantine

  November 2016

  ABOUT THE
AUTHOR

  Born and raised in the Chicagoland area, Percival Constantine grew up on a fairly consistent diet of superhero comics, action movies, video games, and TV shows. At the age of ten, he first began writing and has never really stopped.

  Percival has been working in publishing since 2005 in various capacities—author, editor, formatter, letterer—and has written books, short stories, comics, and more. He has a Bachelor of Arts in English and Mass Media from Northeastern Illinois University and a Master of Arts in English and Screenwriting from Southern New Hampshire University.

  He currently resides in Japan where he continues to produce more stories while also teaching writing and presentation classes at Kagoshima University and Japanese literature and film at the Minami Academy.

  percivalconstantine.com

  pc@percivalconstantine.com

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