‘Benni! The guards are dead! The Psycho Killer’s in the house!’
It was Riko.
I heard Uncle Benni. ‘Yama! Yama!’
I tried to turn him over so I could get the sword, but he was too heavy. And so I grabbed his arm and pulled him on to his back. Ripping out the sword, I ran on to the landing.
It was silent but I sensed victory! But then I remembered zanshin, a kendo term that refers to staying alert. Never drop your guard! And it was good that I remembered it. Because if I hadn’t I wouldn’t have heard the man sneaking up behind me in his bare feet. I turned as fast as I’d ever turned and thrust the sword through his bare chest. He dropped his raised hatchet. And when I pulled out the sword he dropped next to it. His body was covered in yakuza tattoos. But he wasn’t Japanese. He was a white Westerner.
I moved cautiously along the landing. I wanted to wipe the sweat from my eyes but I kept both hands on my sword. Then I looked around a corner. And there was Uncle Benni standing in what looked like a library. He pulled a samurai sword from its mounting and threw the mounting away. ‘Come on then, Psycho Killer. Let’s see what you’ve got.’
He was wearing a man’s kimono and he must have been about sixty. But fear wasn’t built into Uncle Benni. His face was as hard as granite and his eyes were calm and clear. If I underestimated this man he’d kill me. And I knew Riko was around somewhere. I pushed the door flat against the wall to make sure she wasn’t behind it. I scanned the room. It was empty. And so I turned to face Uncle Benni.
He held his sword in both hands. ‘Come – what are you waiting for?’
I raised my sword and moved closer. Suddenly he dropped on to one knee! ‘Now!’ he shouted. Riko rose up behind him, but I was already running. There were two loud bangs and bullets cracked into the door frame. There was another bang just before I jumped over the banister. I crashed on to the hall table, which broke into pieces, and then I bolted for the double doors. More shots shattered the woodwork. But I wrenched the doors open and ran down the drive. I heard a pinging sound as bullets ricocheted off the iron-barred gates.
‘Leave it, Riko!’ shouted Uncle Benni.
I jumped over the guards’ dead bodies, and dodging Riko’s bullets I ran for the bike.
There was no time to put the sword away and so I held it across the handlebars. I put on my helmet, kick-started the engine and pulled back on the throttle. But I rode straight into a dead end! I turned around and rode back. But Riko came around the corner blazing away. I put my head down and kept going. She stopped and scurried to change clips. She took aim but she hesitated, and then she turned and ran. I pulled back on the throttle, and taking the sword in my right hand I struck her down. I braked hard at the end of the street and looked back. She was on the ground and she wasn’t moving. I rode back towards her and got off the bike. Her eyes were open but blood was oozing out the back of her skull. It formed into a dark pool and the full moon appeared in it. For a second I felt hypnotized.
‘Riko! Riko!’
I put the sword away and grabbed the gun from her hand. Then snatching the silver claws from her severed pinkies, I put them in my pocket.
As I rode away I saw Uncle Benni in the mirror. He ran down the side street. Then I heard him scream. But I laughed as I rode because I knew it was the Lump’s move that had saved me. I don’t know how many times I’d told her she couldn’t hit someone’s feet, but she never listened. And I was so glad she didn’t.
15
I ran down to Shibuya while the morning was still fresh, and heading into the Cafe Veloce I bought a coffee. I looked around for a seat, but the place was packed and so I had to sit in the smoking section. Normally I wouldn’t sit there because it was full of smokers coughing and I couldn’t stand that, but I was dying to read the news and so I took a seat and spread the paper out on the table. ‘Bloodbath at Uncle Benni’s. Six bodyguards were butchered at Benni Tanaka’s house last night in an attempt on the godfather’s life. Although the attempt failed, his most feared enforcer, Yama, was killed and so was his beloved niece Riko Tanaka.’
An old guy with yellowish skin sat next to me, and lighting up a cigarette he started to cough. I gave him a look in the hope that he’d move away, but he ignored me and stared at the TV. I saw that the news was on. One of the Mitsubishi directors was heading into work with half a dozen journalists in pursuit. He was the one caught in the photograph with Uncle Benni that time. And I remember Kane telling me that a lot of directors like to be seen with yakuza bosses, especially if they want to intimidate directors from rival corporations. But that was old news. Now he was being accused of money laundering.
‘Are you the yakuza’s banker?’ asked one of the journalists. But he ignored her.
‘Can you account for your three houses?’ asked another. But he ignored him as well.
And so one of them shouted, ‘Isn’t it a little late to be going into work?’
He didn’t like that and he turned on them. ‘I work twelve hours a day! Some nights I’m here until midnight!’ He pushed away the camera and stormed inside. The crew tried to follow, but the security stopped them. And then, when the camera pulled back, I saw it was the Mitsubishi Building in Ginza.
‘Terrible,’ said the old guy without taking his eyes off the TV. ‘So much corruption.’
I ignored him and carried on reading. ‘And while police are withholding many details, they did reveal that the victims were killed with a samurai sword. It goes without saying that the Psycho Killer is back.’ I turned the page to see an old photograph of Yama surrounded by cops. He was in handcuffs, but he still looked scary. Then in my mind I saw him in that mirrored room. ‘What’s it like to know you’re going to die?’ I felt that fear flow through me again. But then I saw that dumbfounded look on his face when he realized I’d cut off his hand. ‘Not so scary now, are you?’
But he still came forward. He never called for help or tried to run. And what about Uncle Benni? There was definitely something of the shogun about him. I could just see him commanding an army in a war zone. Bodies falling around him, and there he’d stand, stone-faced and fearless. He wasn’t godfather for nothing. And what great tactics, having Riko stand behind him like that and then drawing me in. I found myself feeling more than a little respect for Uncle Benni.
But I’d finally got Riko. She’d had to die for what she’d done to the twins. But witch that she was, she was no coward either. But she let her rage get the better of her. Uncle Benni should have taught her the samurai sayings. Then she would have known what he knew: that you must never chase the enemy too far.
I turned the page and saw an old photograph of her and Louise. Riko must have been about six and Louise about five. They’re dressed in kimonos, like the one the Lump wore, and they’re standing in a park on a summer’s day. I’d only ever seen them as monsters that I wanted to murder, but now … You’ve never seen two happier kids. They have their arms around each other and they’re smiling. It’s like there’s a real bond between them, just like there was between me and the twins. And it’s like they really love each other … But they grew up to become scum and they showed Miko no mercy!
Then Uncle Benni’s house came on the TV. There were a dozen bodyguards standing at the gates, and then the camera switched to a woman reporter.
‘Tokyo woke up this morning to news of a bloodbath. Osaka woke up to the same.’
The footage switched to Osaka. There were bodies under sheets and cops all over the place. But I couldn’t understand why.
‘Tomi Yamamoto and his brother Benji were gunned down late last night as they came out of the Hemiji Casino. Several men in two cars were seen spraying automatic weapons. Tomi Yamamoto is said to have been hit two dozen times. A bodyguard and three members of the public were also killed. But these were not the only killings to take place in Osaka last night.’
The footage switched to fire engines hosing a smouldering house.
‘In the early hours of the morning what is be
lieved to have been a bomb was pushed through Miki Kimura’s letter box, killing him and three others. Miki Kimura was the Yamamoto clan’s main adviser and his brothers have vowed revenge. But to add to their troubles they’ll be missing their main henchman, Hama Hamasaki. Hamasaki, who served fifteen years for a double homicide, will kill no more. His headless body was found floating in Osaka Harbour.’
The footage switched back to the reporter outside Uncle Benni’s house.
‘Did a certain person believe the Psycho Killer to be a super-assassin in the employment of the late Tomi Yamamoto. And if so, was a hit squad sent down from Tokyo? You can’t help but fear that this is the beginnings of a full-scale gang war. And if that’s the case, how long will it last? This is Anna Takahashi reporting live for Tokyo on Five.’
My mind started racing in ten different directions. I had to get out of there!
‘You forgot your paper,’ said the old smoker.
‘I’ve read it,’ I said.
I went outside and tried to sprint, but the crowds at the Shibuya Crossing held me up. I was seething. I had to stand there and wait for the lights to change. Then I watched them clash on the crossing like opposing armies. But they weren’t holding weapons; they were carrying shopping bags. Prada bags and iPods. CDs and designer clothes! They were nothing but sheep shopping for trinkets! How many of them would go into a house full of gangsters not knowing if they would come out alive? I wonder what my grandfather would have thought. He’d charged the marines with an empty rifle and he’d been sold down the line for an American iPod. There’s no honour in an iPod. These people should wake up, and something needed to happen to wake them. But it was nothing to do with me. I had my own war to think of … But then I realized that my war was over. Riko was dead. But this can’t end. Not now. I mean, I’ll admit I was on a huge high over last night’s victory. It made me feel powerful. I’ve never felt as powerful in my life. But it wasn’t just that. I was more convinced than ever that all of this was meant to happen. I was meant to take up the sword and live by the bushido code. And I truly believed that the chi energy flowed through me.
‘No, the war has to continue.’
I ran down a side street and headed home. I couldn’t believe they were killing each other. And when I thought about it I was as happy as a drunken monk. I considered what my next move should be. Maybe I could make an attempt on Uncle Benni’s life. But no, he’d be too well protected now. Maybe I could take out one of his crew, someone high up in the organization. I could even think about killing one of the heads of the other clans. That would really stir things up. But suddenly my energy left me and I stopped. I realized that anything I did now would only be seen as part of a gangland war, because the Psycho Killer was seen as an assassin. And what difference did it make who I killed if they were killing each other? It served no purpose. I served no purpose.
I walked on for a bit but I couldn’t think what to do. This was my life now, but if I wanted it to continue I’d have to think of a new strategy. Then it came to me. That Mitsubishi director who was linked to money laundering. It was said that he was the yakuza’s banker, but I’d bet he’d never be charged. Those people get away with everything. They never get their hands dirty, but they make millions from ill-gotten gains. No, he should be made to pay. I could even use Riko’s gun. And I could leave the girls’ claws at the scene. It would send a powerful message to corporations, telling them not to associate with criminals. And then they’d see that I wasn’t just an assassin.
But then everything went blurry and the ground I was walking on started to sway. For a second I thought I was going to faint. I clung to a lamp post and waited for the dizziness to pass, and then I stood up straight. Maybe it was because I hadn’t eaten. ‘You have to eat, Yukio. You have to stay strong.’
I felt better when I walked on, but then the doubts came. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to do it, I did. But I couldn’t justify it, not really. He wasn’t even yakuza. He’s nothing more than a banker, and he was in no way connected to the twins’ death. But it’s not about the twins any more. It’s a war against the yakuza and … the people who associate with them! Or maybe I was doing it for the Buraku. They’ve been persecuted in Japan for centuries, and now someone was standing up for them. That’s it! I was doing it for the Buraku. Then I was so amazed with the way things fell into place that I stopped dead. The twins were Buraku. So I was doing it for them as well!
I felt relieved now that I’d made the connection. And that being the case I’d better stake out the place. I ran all the way home, and going inside I started to run up the stairs. But then Yoshe came out of the kitchen.
‘Yukio, can I ask you a favour?’
‘What?’
She came to the foot of the stairs. ‘I have a dental appointment. I hate to ask, but can you look after the baby?’
‘I can’t. I’m going to Ginza.’
‘You can take him with you.’
‘I’m going on the bike.’
Yoshe looked disappointed. ‘OK, doesn’t matter.’
I went up to my room and took Riko’s gun from the top shelf of the wardrobe. It was a small black Smith & Wesson automatic. When I pressed a button the clip came out. It had six holes running down the side, and for every hole there was a bullet. I pushed the clip back in and aimed it at myself in the mirror. I didn’t mind using a gun. The samurai used firearms when it suited them.
I put it next to the girls’ claws and put on a clean T-shirt. Then I trotted downstairs and took a few rice cakes from the kitchen. But then I felt bad about Yoshe. The baby’s father was a bit of a baby himself and she couldn’t get him to do anything, not even look for a job. And she always did things for me. ‘I’ll take him,’ I said.
‘You don’t have to.’
‘I want to. I like the baby. And I don’t mind taking the subway.’
‘That’s great, because I think he’s starting to like you too.’
Yoshe looked happy then. I suppose me taking the baby meant something more to her than missing a dental appointment; it showed that I looked at him as family, which I did.
She put the baby in his buggy and put on his baby baseball cap. He smiled then because he knew he was going out and he liked to go out. And he looked so cute in his cap.
Yoshe gave him a kiss. ‘You’re going out with Uncle Yukio!’
‘Kio!’ said the baby.
It was the first time he’d said my name!
‘Oh, before I forget,’ said Yoshe, wheeling him outside. ‘The nun came by. She asked if you could call round and see her.’
‘I’ll go on my way back,’ I said, and headed off to the subway.
‘There’s a bottle and wipes under the seat,’ shouted Yoshe. ‘And don’t let him get too much sun!’
‘I won’t.’
I pushed the baby down to Yoyogi station and took the Chiyoda line over to Ginza. The baby didn’t like being underground and he didn’t like being on the train either. He started to look a little sour-faced and then he started to cry. And no matter how many people tried to please him, and there were plenty of them, he just wouldn’t stop. But he was happy when we got back to street level. He liked the look of Hibiya Park, with its tall trees and tennis courts, and he liked the moat that ran around the Imperial Palace. If I’d had time I would have taken him to the toy section in one of the big department stores, but I didn’t. And so I headed over to the International Forum and cut through the convention centre.
It was a vast building with a glass roof shaped like the skeleton bones of a whale. The baby liked the roof and he shouted at it. Then he realized that his voice echoed and he shouted all the way to the end. And then, through the huge sheets of glass, I saw the Mitsubishi Building rising up between two other skyscrapers. I pushed the baby out into the sunshine and surveyed the area. The building stood on a broad street that ran down towards the Imperial Palace and up under a railway bridge. It was dark under the bridge, even in the daylight, and it wasn’t until I
headed towards it that I saw there were motorbikes underneath. And when I looked back I saw the Mitsubishi Building was no more than two hundred metres away. I could park the bike below the bridge and run back to it when the job was done. But this was going to be a difficult hit. This wasn’t the docks or a backstreet in Shibuya. This was Ginza, a stone’s throw from the Imperial Palace, and there were cops everywhere. Not only that, but there were hotels and expensive stores with security guards standing outside them. And there were cameras on every corner.
I pushed the buggy along the pedestrian path that ran between the stone wall of the bridge and the buildings. It was so narrow, and there were so many overhangs, it was like being in a tunnel. But it was my best chance of escape. It would take me over to the other side of Ginza, where I could merge with the heavy traffic. The only real problem was that there were bars and restaurants built into the arches of the bridge. I’d have to remember to ride slow in case anyone stepped out.
As I headed back towards the Mitsubishi Building the baby started to cry, for no reason, and so I bought him an ice cream. We pulled up outside Mitsubishi and I had a look around. There were square ponds and flower beds in front of the main entrance, and in the centre was a raised piece of ground with a garden on it. It looked like a small forest. There were half a dozen trees and plenty of bushes and smaller plants. If I climbed up on to the low wall I could hide in the foliage and shoot him from there. That way they couldn’t even see where the shots were coming from. And it would be dark by then. Because he said he worked twelve hours a day, and when I was in the cafe it must have been about ten thirty. And so that was it. I sat by the ponds, in front of the building, and turned the baby towards me. He was still trying to take the wrapper off his ice-cream.
Summertime of the Dead Page 18