The Hunter

by Asa Nonami

  "We're looking for Ogawa now. We'll get the guy who did this to you and your daughter, don't you worry."

  Weakly, Kasahara signaled "yes" with his hand. Sensing the reaction, Takako looked up at Takizawa and nodded.

  Based on Kasahara's testimony, investigation headquarters had declared Masanori Ogawa, who ran a health equipment business in the same building as Hara's date club, their prime suspect.

  "I spoke to him first." Yesterday, in shaky, disjointed fragments, Kasahara had begun his story in simple words: While he was out training Gale, he saw Ogawa setting experimental fires in the riverbed, and in the course of stalking Hara, he had seen Ogawa hand him something in the underground parking garage of the restaurant.

  "I wasn't going to say anything. Because Ogawa acted for me."

  Ogawa had not been home since the fire at the Kasahara residence, and he'd made no contact with his family. His business, furthermore, had been going downhill for several years, and he'd taken out substantial loans from non-bank sources.

  They would have to wait for the chemical analysis to be sure, but around Kasahara's house there was a telltale tarry substance suggestive of benzoyl peroxide. The investigators were strongly of the view that this arson case was connected to Hara's murder. If they could come up with concrete evidence linking Ogawa to this incident, they were ready to arrest him on a moment's notice.

  "With only fifteen minutes a day, I can't ask all the questions I need to ask. Well, when you get better, you and me'll have a good long chat, OK?"

  Takizawa's tone was gentle. As she held Kasahara's damp hand, Takako looked back and forth between the faces of the two men.

  "But there are some things that can't wait," Takizawa was going on. "You understand me, right? You know you're not just a helpless victim here yourself. You admit what you did was wrong, right?"

  The answer was a weak "yes." Takako was looking at Kasahara's profile; his eyes were closed.

  The image of Tomoko angrily stomping her foot popped up again in Takako's mind. Ever since that girl was little, she always whined to get her way, always turned to Takako when she needed help. If she so much as caught a cold and took to her bed, she became needy and clingy; she'd cough on purpose, cry, and do all she could to keep Takako and Koko from doing things without her. This one time Takako had refused to play her game—was that why she ODed?

  "Depending on the way you look at it, some people might even say you got what was coming to you," continued Takizawa.

  Kasahara's fingers jerked as if a weak electric current had gone through them.

  "There's not much difference between you and Ogawa when you come down to it, now is there? You both took someone else's life without getting your own hands dirty. You had your reasons, I'm sure. I've got a couple of young daughters myself—I'll tell you about that some other time."

  The man's heavily bandaged chest moved, barely, up and down. Kasahara's eyes, surrounded by deep crows' feet, opened slowly and he gazed up at the ceiling.

  What was Tomoko doing now? Maybe Takako should have at least asked for the name of the hospital where she was.

  "Anyway, the main thing we need to know now is about that dog you let go. Gale."

  The eyes closed again. Under the lids, Kasahara's eyeballs were in restless motion. Then Kasahara's throat curved up and he let out a groan from deep inside, twisting his face. Reflexively, Takako squeezed his hand hard. His large, gnarled hand moved weakly in hers and went limp.

  "Got any idea where Gale might've taken off for?"

  No response. Instead, as if he were experiencing sudden pain, Kasahara's face twisted in agony and his breath came in ragged spurts. The doctor, who had been standing a ways off, quickly came forward.

  "Step back, please. He can't be subjected to any more of this." The doctor peered into Kasahara's face and checked the various tubes and cords connected to him before giving the nurse an order. Until then she had remained in the background, but now she sprang into action. Takako was struck by the realization that this was their place of work, not hers; feeling awkwardly in the way, she stood and yielded her spot to them. Takizawa, however, was not so willing to give up. It irked her to realize it, but this was one area where she could learn from him. Even if people resented you for it, you had to get the job done. That was a detective's first duty.

  "Can you give him something to calm him down? There are things we absolutely have to ask him."

  "Can't you see the state he's in? I think you should leave."

  "How many minutes till I can talk to him again? I'll wait outside."

  The doctor did not answer Takizawa's question. Even so, Takizawa did not give up, appealing to him several times before finally turning away.

  "We gotta have more than this before we contact headquarters," Takizawa grumbled as they left the ICU. The words were no sooner out of his mouth than the ring of a cellphone went off. He and Takako looked at each other, and reached into their pockets at the same time. Before Takako could check hers, Takizawa murmured, "It's mine.... Of all the times to pick to call."

  His face was already a sight, half purplish with bruises; now, twisting his features in a scowl, he looked like the angry demon on a temple roof. Takako came dangerously near laughing, but controlled the impulse, telling herself sternly, "No time for silliness." As he squared his shoulders defiantly, walking with phone in his ear, she followed after him.

  Tomoko. This is how everybody lives. Even betrayed by their husband or wife or child, even double-crossed, they go on living. They may live only to be sad, only to experience pain, but they go on living....

  Looking at Takizawa's back, for the first time Takako felt a true partnership with him. That clumsy emperor penguin probably spent all his time talking inwardly to other people, as Takako was doing now, while he went about his daily business. Pursuing cases that involved the lives of strangers while the confused mess of his own family life went on. Despite this ironic fate, he got through the days. His face might get bruised and swollen, but all he could do was go back to work, with no time to hide the damage.

  She was starting to feel a slight lump in her throat when Takizawa suddenly turned around. With a queer look on his face, he handed her the phone wordlessly. In her ear came a crisp voice: "Ask your partner to fill you in on the details. When you're finished there, the Takizawa team is hereby disbanded. We have a new job for you, Officer Otomichi."

  Takako answered perfunctorily and hung up. She turned around to look for Takizawa, but he was gone. She spun around quickly, and caught sight of him disappearing back into the ICU they had left only minutes before.

  2

  Pushing his way through the doctors and nurses blocking his way, Takizawa went back over to the bed. Kasahara's face was a mask of agony, his breath coming in gasps; he was oblivious to Takizawa's presence, his eyes tightly shut. The guy was seriously ill, a pitiful sight. Right now he didn't have the strength to fight a baby.

  "Can you hear me, Kasahara?"

  The only sound was jagged breathing. Takizawa crouched down beside the bed, put his mouth up next to Kasahara's ear, and called his name again. But there was no response. His dried, cracked lips half open, Kasahara went on gasping for breath. Next Takizawa grabbed his wrist, joggling it lightly as he said his name again. Just then Otomichi came scurrying in. With a confused look on her face, she came and stood next to Takizawa, her slanting eyes wide open for a change.

  Takizawa's ears were ringing with the order just handed down from Wata-nuki: "The Takizawa team will be disbanded as soon as you finish your questioning. Officer Takizawa will be assigned a new partner to carry on this assignment with. We have new orders for Otomichi."

  Why dissolve their partnership now, after all this time? Had she put in a request? His mind swirled with questions. But there had been no time to think of them while he was on the telephone. The news from Captain Wata-nuki had come like a new punch in the face.

  "Look, I know you're suffering. But I have to ask you some que
stions. Can you open your eyes?" Still joggling the man's wrist, he squeezed a bit harder, lifting the unresisting arm. For a second, Kasahara's gasping stopped. Behind him, Takizawa could sense Otomichi's nervousness. None of your looks now, he thought. I gotta do what I can to clear this guy's head, whatever it takes. Glancing up, he saw her offering Kasahara the hiragana board. Thoughtful, smart of her, even if. . . Independent judgment, acted on swiftly. And calmly. Whatever may be going on in her family he didn't know, but she had the strength of mind to lay it aside when it counted.

  "Can you hear me, Kasahara-san? If you can hear me, open your eyes!" Perhaps in response to the sharp female voice, Kasahara's eyelids fluttered open. Damn, lady cop or no lady cop, she was good. But today would be their last day together.

  "You with me, Kasahara? Listen up. You know a guy named Mizutani? Taku Mizutani?"

  Kasahara's hand trembled, and his eyes opened wide. His bloodshot, watery eyes wandered before turning toward Takizawa.

  "You know him, don't you?" muttered Takizawa. "That's right, Mizutani from Takenotsuka, in Adachi Ward."

  Kasahara's eyes wavered. Takizawa leaned forward so Kasahara had no choice but to look at him squarely. Then, loud enough so Otomichi could hear, he said, "He's dead." For a moment Kasahara lay still, as if his breathing had stopped. But his eyes remained wide open.

  "They found his body this morning in a temple compound not far from here. His throat was torn out and his skull was mangled." Even as he spoke those words, Takizawa felt a chill travel down his own spine. The agitation in Kasahara's eyes was clear. His gaze roved about as if seeking salvation. From beside him came the whisper, "Is that true?" Without taking his eyes off Kasahara, Takizawa nodded, though barely, and then lowered his face even closer to the patient.

  "It was Gale, wasn't it?"

  Kasahara focused on Takizawa's face again, staring back as if to test him. Takizawa sighed and said, "You don't believe me?" Instead of a reply, Kasahara blinked once. "Unfortunately, it's true."

  Takizawa told Kasahara to blink once for yes, twice for no, and repeated the question: Did he know a man named Taku Mizutani? After a second's hesitation, during which he looked from Takizawa to Otomichi and back again, slowly Kasahara blinked a single time.

  "Well, it's good to know that dog you trained just doesn't go around attacking random strangers. That's something. That's what had me worried."

  Once again, Kasahara's gaze wandered. His eyes, already reddened and watery from fever, seemed actually to tremble, tears oozing from the corners. This was not the place for tears. But unlike a woman, when a man shed tears during an interrogation, it meant he'd come around. Takizawa leaned farther forward and asked, "How'd that happen? Here you are, lying in a hospital bed. But Gale out there went and found Mizutani on his own. How'd he pull off a trick like that?"

  Choking on tears, Kasahara raised a shaking hand. Without a moment's delay, Otomichi offered him the board. The wretched man craned his neck to see it and then, with frustrating slowness, his hand lacking strength, he spelled out his message:

  We checked him out.

  "You taught him to recognize Mizutani?"

  Found out where he lived, followed him.

  Was that enough for the animal to remember Mizutani? Could it be that smart? We're talking about a pooch here, thought Takizawa. No matter how well trained, there had to be a limit to what a dog could do. Obeying an on-the-spot order was impressive; but if he could remember and carry out an assignment even when separated from his master, he was practically human. Was that what they were like, these wolf-dogs?

  "So Gale could carry out his mission even without you around?"

  Never thought he'd take it so far. As Kasahara stared at the board, seemingly frustrated with his slowness, there was definite fear in his eyes. Gale has strong will. Won't act unless convinced.

  "OK," said Takizawa, thinking, My god, what kind of creature have you created? "Who else did you teach him to recognize?"

  No response. For the first time Takizawa spoke roughly, thrusting his face before the other man, intimidating him: "Tell us! Who else is Gale hunting?!"

  Kasahara's wrinkled eyelids moved feebly in a double blink.

  "'No' doesn't mean nothing. I'm asking you who he's hunting!"

  The eyes wavered anxiously again, and the soundless lips barely moved.

  "What?" said Takizawa, putting his ear down by Kasahara's mouth. "What is it, goddamn it?"

  Otomichi spoke up, her tone severe: "If you have anything to say, Kasa-hara-san, please use this."

  The lips moved vainly again, but finally he gave up and used the board. No more targets.

  Takizawa was about to say, "No more, huh?" but Otomichi clutched his arm to stop him. Kasahara's wobbly hand was still not finished.

  Gale. His breath was coming unevenly. Tears rolled from his bloodshot eyes as he stared at the board.

  "What about Gale?"

  "Take your time. Take as long as you want." Otomichi spoke in a subdued tone. Still holding on to Takizawa's arm, she bent over and said encouragingly, "Go on, please. You can do it." Not the sort of thing people usually said during an interrogation. What was the point of sympathizing with a suspect? But in this case, when they needed to debrief a bedridden suspect, it was the best possible thing. And no male cop would ever have uttered those words.

  Would not attack ordinary people. But maybe Ogawa.

  As the finger painstakingly traced out these words, through the sterile gown covering his arm Takizawa felt Otomichi's grip tighten. Son of a bitch, he should have asked the captain where Ogawa was. But the captain hadn't said anything, they must not know.

  "With that dog's determination, if he can find Ogawa, he'll attack."

  In answer to this mutter, Kasahara's eyelids feebly blinked once. Separated from his master, left alone to fend for himself, had Gale ceased to be a dog and become the next thing to a real wolf, hunting down Ogawa in a full display of lupine prowess?

  "Is that what you want him to do?"

  No response.

  "I told you we're gonna catch Ogawa, right? You still want Gale to kill him?"

  No response. Slowly Kasahara closed his eyes, struggling to get his breathing under control. His carotid artery was pulsing. Tears flowed without end. Takizawa stared down at the ex-cop with irritation.

  Otomichi spoke up: "Don't you care about Gale? He killed those people for you. Is that the only reason you raised him, as a tool of vengeance? The reason he trusts you so completely—isn't it because of the unconditional love you've always given him?"

  Fresh tears flowed from the corners of Kasahara's eyes. Takizawa looked from his face to Otomichi's profile and, scarcely realizing it, pulled slightly back. She had her own questions to ask. She was trying to use a woman's tactics to get Kasahara to talk.

  "I don't want Gale to die. If it's at all possible, I want to capture him alive."

  At that, Kasahara's eyes opened again. Mingled weakness and obsession, indecision and regret, loneliness: all that was concentrated in his gaze.

  "Tell us—how can we capture Gale when he isn't tame with strangers?"

  The silence went on so long that it seemed like the clock had stopped. She never moved a muscle, just stared intently at the man's eyes. New orders, thought Takizawa. He never even knew that Otomichi used to be a motorcycle cop. There was silence except for the raspy breath of this pathetic, voiceless, injured man.

  "Isn't that your duty, as his master? Or are you willing to abandon him now? Now that he's accomplished your goals for you, he can just go wild, is that what you want?" Silence. After a pause, Otomichi took a deep breath and asked, "Isn't he family?"

  Kasahara looked at Otomichi for a while and then, after many seconds had gone by, finally he moved his hand.

  Emiko's things. Her scent.

  "Emiko's personal belongings? Are you saying that if he detects her scent, he'll come out of hiding? "

  Slowly, one blink. As he looked at the man's rigid exp
ression, Takizawa could tell: The guy knows his daughter was burned to death.

  Her things are at the hospital.

  "Ogose Hospital? We can use whatever is there? OK, but where should we go? Where would Gale go to hide?"

  Little by little, she was talking faster. She seemed far more composed than Takizawa, but inside she had to be frustrated, too, up against the wall. And from now on she'd have a solo assignment. Be in the forefront of the hunt for the wolf-dog. Imagine that—the princess is a lizard! It wasn't just her being a woman; apart from her gender, there was something basically mysterious and unknowable about her.