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Last Stop Tokyo

Page 25

by James Buckler


  ‘Tanaka doesn’t care about details like that. He will eliminate anyone who can harm him in any way. Didn’t Saito explain how dangerous these people are? While you were at Ushigome, Tanaka was there, awaiting trial on extortion charges. There were three main witnesses in the case. We found them in the Sumida river last week, with their hands and feet missing. These people are serious.’

  ‘Saito promised me we would be safe. I never would have agreed to this if I’d known how much danger we would be in.’

  Tomada thought for a moment. ‘Let me call the inspector and tell him about Naoko. I need to find out what he thinks we should do now.’ She took out her phone and dialled it quickly.

  She held the phone to her ear and spoke calmly, following the flow of traffic as she talked. Alex realized he had never paid Tomada any attention. She had always been in the inspector’s shadow, silently fulfilling his commands. Her face was wide and unblemished and her manner coolly professional. It was striking how youthful she looked.

  She left the expressway and took the exit heading west towards Kawasaki, the road twisting through the vast network of factories and industrial plants. A haze of pollution drifted down from the towering chimneys, lit up by the passing traffic against the grey evening sky. Tomada was silent for the last minute of the call, occasionally muttering her agreement into the handset as she drove. Finally, she hung up and looked over at Alex in the passenger seat.

  ‘Saito has a plan. He says there is a station nearby. He says that all the shinkansen lines from Tokyo pass through it on their way out of the city. He thinks you should join Naoko and get out of Tokyo for a while. At least until he can make sure you are both safe. He is going to arrange for her train to be stopped so you can board it.’

  ‘Saito can do that?’

  ‘He will contact the rail control centre and tell them it’s an emergency.’

  Tomada pulled the car on to a deserted side street. There were pale streetlights standing in crooked rows, illuminating the lines of empty, shabby-looking warehouses, the rain collecting in puddles on the cracked pavements. At the end of the street was the entrance to a suburban train station. It was old and dilapidated, the corrugated roof suspended over the rail tracks by rows of rusted steel pillars. A flock of crows hovered in the gloom above. Alex looked at the flaking paint on the façade and the shadowy stairs leading into the dark building.

  ‘Is it even open?’ he asked. ‘It looks derelict.’

  Tomada looked at him with steady authority. ‘It hasn’t been used in years,’ she said, ‘but the rail tracks still run straight through. Saito says we are to go up to the westbound platform and wait for him there.’

  They stepped from the car and Alex felt the rain on his face as they crossed the street. Tomada pulled her overcoat around her tightly as she walked. The stock of the pistol holstered at her waist bulged through the wet fabric. Alex followed her up the steps to the elevated landing. The rusted iron turnstiles were unlocked and they pushed their way through and went out on to the deserted platform. Weeds were growing in thickets at the sides of the rail embankment and the trackbed was choked with rubbish. Wind gusted at the torn edges of advertising posters tacked to the forlorn station buildings.

  Tomada stopped at the edge of the rain-swept platform. She seemed to have grown more substantial now, imposing in the surroundings, despite her small stature. Alex noticed she wore a thin gold wedding band and toyed with it nervously as she stood and faced him. It was the only outward sign she gave of any tension.

  ‘Now you need to tell me where Naoko is going,’ she said briskly.

  Alex heard the urgency in her voice. There was something surprising in the change of tone.

  ‘You’re sure I can trust you?’ he asked.

  Tomada pointed to the badge hanging on a chain around her neck. ‘I’m a police officer, Malloy-san. Who can you trust if not me?’

  His hands were pressed deep inside his pockets for warmth and he suddenly felt the silent vibration of his phone as a call came through. He guessed it must be Naoko. Without removing his mobile or making any movements that could alert Tomada, he pressed to connect the call. He gripped the phone firmly inside his pocket.

  ‘Inspector Saito told me to speak only to him,’ Alex said. ‘He was clear that I wasn’t to trust anyone else. Even you, Officer Tomada.’

  ‘But I’m his assistant, Malloy-san. You’ve seen me with him at Ushigome many times. Trusting me is as safe as trusting him. Why would you need to be wary of a police officer?’

  Alex made sure the phone in his pocket was free of any obstruction before he replied. He raised his voice and spoke clearly.

  ‘It was you that made the call to Jun, wasn’t it, Officer Tomada? You tipped him off when we were in Yokohama. You told him I was recording our conversation on the fairground wheel. You almost got us killed.’

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ she said.

  ‘And this?’ he said, pointing around at the run-down station. ‘This is all bullshit, isn’t it? Saito didn’t tell you to come here. It wasn’t him you were talking to on the phone. It was Tanaka. This is all a set-up, isn’t it?’

  Her expression became suspicious. ‘What’s in your pocket, Malloy-san?’ she said. ‘Show me.’

  Alex released the phone from his grip and started to remove his hands from his jacket. He wanted to show Tomada something, anything to allay her fears. There were some scraps of paper balled up at the bottom of his pocket and he grabbed them and pulled them out inside his fist.

  Tomada looked wary. She reached one hand to the stock of the pistol at her waist. ‘What is that?’ she asked.

  Alex opened his hand and showed her. They were torn pieces of thick white paper. He remembered they were the omikuji, the blessings he had ripped from the camphor tree the night he and Naoko had gone to the temple gardens together. It seemed so long ago now. He held the scraps of paper up in the faint light.

  ‘It’s my good fortune,’ he said.

  Tomada shook her head. ‘I don’t have time for your games, Malloy-san. I need to know where Naoko is going. Tell me now.’

  ‘Only if you answer one question first. How did Tanaka know I was there?’

  She looked at him with sympathy. ‘One of your friends called Tanaka about an hour ago. He told us where to find you.’

  ‘Which friend?’ Alex asked.

  ‘You already know,’ she said.

  ‘Tell me.’

  A gust of wind came up as Tomada replied. Alex strained to hear her over the howl. He was sure none of her words could be heard down the telephone line.

  ‘Hiro Ozawa. He called and told us everything.’

  Alex felt the devastation of his friend’s betrayal. His head pulsed with disbelief. ‘You’re lying,’ he said. ‘He wouldn’t do that.’

  Tomada looked triumphant at his distress. ‘It’s the truth.’

  ‘But that meant putting Naoko in danger as well. He might betray me, but not her.’

  ‘His one condition was that she wouldn’t be harmed. We have no intention of honouring that promise, of course. Now tell me where her train is going.’

  Alex thought of all the possible answers he could give and their myriad consequences. He watched Tomada click open the strap of her holster and begin to grip the butt of her pistol. Her face had assumed a fearsome composure. He knew what was coming and wanted to laugh at its inevitability. There was only one last action he was able to perform. One final lie in the endless series that had led to this point. He spoke before it was obvious that he had hesitated too long.

  ‘Niigata,’ he said. ‘Naoko is on the fast train to Niigata.’

  Alex was braced for the danger from Tomada but a quick movement came from the shadows behind him. Footsteps, sudden and unexpected, in a broken stutter step. Alex took a breath and waited. He was still looking at the torn scraps of paper in his hand when he felt the blade of the knife pierce the flesh below his shoulder blade and cut through his ribs. There w
as a wave of nausea and his knees began to buckle. With the second thrust he felt a burning and his mouth began to fill with blood. He staggered slightly, turning on his heels, to see Jun’s face as he fell. He hit the cold stone of the platform hard and rolled on to his side. The paper scraps fluttered from his hand, twisting in the wind. For a moment, he knew he had seen them somewhere before. Then he remembered, the night in the snow. The bitter flakes falling. The cold. Hiro had got what he wanted, after all. He had made sure there were no new beginnings or fresh starts. No blessings stronger than fate. On the tracks below him, he could hear the eerie hum of distant trains travelling over the rails.

  39

  AFTER SHE HAD pulled the emergency cord and the shinkansen had ground to a halt, the air brakes squealing as the train decelerated rapidly on the rails, Naoko opened the door and climbed down on to the tracks. She still had the phone pressed to her ear as she ran back along the length of the train, the gravel crunching under her feet. Passengers stood and watched her through the carriage windows, their faces full of confusion as she passed. She was screaming into her phone as she stumbled over the sleepers.

  ‘Alex. Tell me where you are! I can’t hear you!’ she shouted.

  Nothing. Just the static hum of a phone tumbling inside clothing.

  ‘Alex. What’s happening? You’re scaring me. Why can’t I hear you any more?’

  Naoko had listened to fragments of the heated conversation, broken up by the roar of the wind and the confusion of voices. From the pieces of information, she could build a picture that was almost coherent. At first, she was unsure how to process what she was hearing – Alex’s voice, the muffled female arguing with him. But she knew he had been in danger when he ran from the ticket gate at Tokyo station. If he was making a point of taking her call, she knew it was for a reason. When she heard Officer Tomada’s name, she started to put the pieces of the puzzle into place. She could trace Tomada’s involvement all the way back to the first meeting at Ushigome. Naoko could see now how she had manoeuvred everyone into position to take advantage right from that point. She wondered exactly how far Tomada’s web had been spun.

  She reached the rear of the train and stopped and looked out at the rain-drenched city from the vantage of the high embankment. He could be anywhere out there, Naoko thought, lost among the endless grey buildings and empty parks and dark, naked trees. She pushed the phone against her ear to try to listen closer and looked about her in the twilight.

  Suddenly, the interference cleared at the end of the line as the handset was lifted free from obstruction.

  ‘Alex?’ she said.

  A soft gasp and a voice muted, as if through foam.

  ‘Naoko.’

  ‘Yes, it’s me. Where are you? Look around and tell me what you see. I will be able to find you if you tell me the landmarks you can see close by.’

  He made a sound halfway between a groan and a knowing laugh, his voice harsh and strangled. Every syllable seemed to take an effort to sound on his lips. He tried to say something but it was ill-formed and she struggled to understand him.

  ‘Say it again. I can’t hear you.’

  ‘Tomada.’

  ‘Tomada? I know, Alex. I heard her speaking. I know she was there. But you’ve got to tell me where you are. What’s happening to you? I will come and find you if I know where you are. Tell me.’

  ‘Soto.’

  ‘Outside? What do you mean? What is outside?’

  ‘Soto,’ he said again, his voice growing weaker.

  She began to cry at her own powerlessness. ‘You’re scaring me, Alex. Tell me what I need to do? Please …’

  There was a gentle gasp of submission and then nothing. The line was still connected and she continued to call his name into the handset, repeating it again and again until it began to lose meaning.

  Passengers started to step down from the open doors of the shinkansen and gather at the side of the tracks, talking in hushed tones as they speculated about the cause of the emergency. Parents gathered their children together for safety at the edge of the embankment, where the knotweed grew in dense thickets. They looked back at Naoko, who stood out there alone. The train conductor approached, his cap held in his hands before him. He began to ask if she was hurt or needed help but Naoko waved him away. She pressed the phone to her ear in case she heard Alex move or speak again. She knew it was impossible now. Emergency lights flashed in the distance. Soon she would hear sirens approaching and then she would have to explain all. She would ask to be taken to Ushigome, to unburden herself, and then the search would begin. Naoko promised herself she would hang up the phone only when they had found him.

  Acknowledgements

  Thanks to Jonathan Caplan, Steven Buckler, Jane Lord, Richard Lonsdale and Sean Kirkegaard, for their invaluable feedback and encouragement. Thank you also to M. J. Hyland and Trevor Byrne at www.hylandbyrne.com, who edited and advised on an early draft of this novel.

  Special thanks to my agent, Jane Finigan, and all at Lutyens & Rubinstein for their dedication and hard work. Also to my insightful editor, Frankie Gray, and the team at Transworld.

  Finally, my wife, Isabel, without whose patience and belief this novel would never have happened.

  About the Author

  James Buckler grew up in the south-west of England and currently lives in London, though he has lived in America and Japan, where he worked as an English teacher. He studied Film at the University of Westminster and worked in film and TV for many years, most notably as a post-production specialist for MTV and BBC Films. Last Stop Tokyo is his debut novel.

  TRANSWORLD PUBLISHERS

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  www.penguin.co.uk

  Transworld is part of the Penguin Random House group of companies whose addresses can be found at global.penguinrandomhouse.com

  First published in Great Britain in 2017 by Doubleday

  an imprint of Transworld Publishers

  Copyright © James Buckler 2017

  James Buckler has asserted his right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.

  Cover design by R. Shailer/TW

  This book is a work of fiction and, except in the case of historical fact, any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Every effort has been made to obtain the necessary permissions with reference to copyright material, both illustrative and quoted. We apologize for any omissions in this respect and will be pleased to make the appropriate acknowledgements in any future edition.

  A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

  Version 1.0 Epub ISBN 9781473543508

  ISBNs 9780857524966 (hb)

  9780857524973 (tpb)

  This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorized distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

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