The Yakuza Path: Better Than Suicide

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The Yakuza Path: Better Than Suicide Page 25

by Amy Tasukada


  Kurosawa grabbed Nao’s arm. “You’re never leaving my sight again after what you did at the hospital.”

  “Fine, then you can watch me fuck Kohta for all I care.” Nao shrugged off Kurosawa’s grip.

  “You saw him yesterday.”

  “You’re jealous?”

  “You have duties to accomplish as the head of this family. Those drugs the doctor pumped in you will eventually wear off, and now he can only make house visits.”

  “Fuck you!”

  “You have to take resp—”

  Nao headed for the door, but Kurosawa leaned against it, blocking Nao’s escape. Nao’s muscles tightened. He drew his arm back, but his phone vibrated before he could throw a punch. Kohta must’ve found something.

  Kurosawa didn’t need to hear any of his conversation with Kohta, but Aki finished getting the shampoo out of his hair on the other side of the showers The sound would drown it out, but his dress shoes slid him a little closer to Aki’s naked body than he wanted.

  Nao answered his phone. “What is it?”

  “That lady from that photo you sent me showed up,” Kohta said.

  Nao had already received the briefcase from Sakai’s wife, Kayako. She had no reason to go back to Chen’s.

  “When did she get there?” Nao asked. “Did Chen make it back?”

  “No, but she looked really suspicious. I mean, she’s a high-class lady. Those are Prada shoes and a Vuitton bag—”

  “I don’t care what she’s wearing. What is she doing?” Nao pinched the bridge of his nose.

  “She came for five minutes and left a second ago. She’s heading up north. Do you still want me to follow her or go back to Chen’s?”

  Chen had to know more about the drugs than he’d let on when Nao had asked about his ward. Nao shook his head. Kayako wasn’t part of the Matsukawa, so she shouldn’t have even been allowed in the safe house.

  “Follow her and keep me updated,” Nao said between clenched teeth.

  Nao hung up the phone and caught a glimpse of Aki toweling himself off. He reminded himself to look away, but Kurosawa leaning against the exit killed any less-than-pure thoughts.

  “Get out of my way.” Nao pushed Kurosawa, but the thick wall of muscle didn’t move.

  “You’re not really screwing that prostitute, are you?”

  “My dick is in his mouth every time I see him. Now move!”

  Kurosawa grinned. “You’re putting in too much effort for that to be true. If you were screwing him, he’d be coming to headquarters by now.”

  “I like going out.”

  “You have to learn to trust people and tell them what’s going on,” Kurosawa said. “That’s what being a good leader is all about.”

  A blaze ignited in Nao’s stomach and heated up his skin. He looked away, hoping Kurosawa couldn’t read anything else written on his face.

  “Why do you care if I’m a good leader or not?” Nao asked.

  “If you’re a bad leader, people will want to shoot you, and I’ll have to take the bullet first. But I know you can become the leader Kyoto needs. You wouldn’t let the city crumble because you think asking for help is a sign of weakness.”

  “I don’t need help from you.”

  Kurosawa sighed. “Who do you think convinced the hospital security it was a good idea to delete the footage of you suffocating an old man? I ran straight at the police so you wouldn’t get caught with a body on your hands. What more can I do to show you that I’m on your side?”

  Nao bit his lip. If he hadn’t asked for Aki’s help, he would never have been able to go to Shima. If it weren’t for Kohta, he never would’ve found the drug dealer or the note. Yuiko had helped with the translations. He had already asked for help.

  “Please, I can’t protect you if you don’t tell me what’s going on,” Kurosawa said.

  “So you can go and text it to Sakai!”

  “I stopped when you told me. Sakai asked me to keep it up, but you’re the godfather and you outrank him. If you don’t believe me, you can check my phone.”

  Nao pressed his fingers into a fist and uncurled them. With as little time as he had left, he needed all the help he could get.

  “Someone in the syndicate is selling drugs,” Nao said.

  Kurosawa laughed. “Come on, everyone knows the Matsukawa don’t deal drugs. It’s inexcusable.”

  “Keep your voice down.” Nao glanced at Aki on the other side of the room getting dressed. “I have proof it’s happening, and I have until the end of the day to find out who, or else the police raid headquarters. Detective Yamada will plant whatever he wants there and lock me up.”

  “Why not get one of the new recruits to take the blame?”

  “No. We need to find the real person behind it.” Nao looked Kurosawa in the eye. “You will help?”

  Kurosawa smiled. “As long as I have breath in my lungs I’ll help you, Father Murata.”

  “SO AFTER YOU FUCKED Aki, you’d sneak out to find drug dealers?” Kurosawa said.

  Nao rubbed his temple. “I never fucked Aki.”

  “But all the moaning.”

  “He faked it.”

  “And the way he looks at you?”

  “That’s his own fault.”

  Nao shook his head and hoped that after last night, Aki’s longing looks would cease. He’d managed to help more than anyone else in the family.

  Kurosawa flicked on the car’s blinker and waited for the light to change. Each passing second coiled the thoughts in Nao’s mind.

  Sakai’s handwriting couldn’t be confirmed at the teahouse. Even if Kurosawa trusted him, Nao couldn’t shake his suspicion, because he knew Sakai wanted him to fail. He’d also lied about taking care of Miko’s supply of drugs.

  Ikida had spoken English so freely with Taejin they could’ve made another drug deal while Nao stared at the dim sum. Ikida had also passed on the last geisha teahouse outing, so Nao couldn’t compare his handwriting.

  Chen knew something since the drugs were being sold in his ward, but nothing could stop him from lying about it.

  “What was the address Kohta said Kayako was at?” Kurosawa asked.

  Nao pressed his lips together then rattled off the address Kohta had texted him.

  “Hmm,” Kurosawa hummed.

  “What hmm?”

  “That’s Ikida’s address.”

  “Why would Kayako want to go to Ikida’s?”

  “Probably friends with his wife.” Kurosawa shook his head. “I still don’t get why you haven’t given someone to Detective Yamada. Then you wouldn’t have this midnight deadline hanging over you.”

  Nao narrowed his eyes. “I’m not going to let some innocent recruit take the blame when someone is betraying me.”

  “Recruits know taking the blame is something to be respected. Time spent in jail for the Matsukawa is the same as time spent on the streets for the family. Your father did it all the time.”

  “I’m not my father, and I’m not going to run the Matsukawa the way he did, because it left him dead.”

  “But you’re okay with letting the detective dismantle the family?” Kurosawa cocked an eyebrow.

  Nao pressed his fist against his leg.

  “I’m going to find the traitor. I have no doubt about it,” Nao said.

  “All you know is someone is planning to shake up the Matsukawa when we’ve already been through a meat grinder from the Korean mob.”

  “I think someone wants the extra cash.”

  Kurosawa’s eyes lingered in the rearview mirror at Nao.

  “Think about it,” Kurosawa said. “The Korean drug dealer took a hit to prove the drugs were good, but they were tainted, so he died. Whoever bought them stuffed the body in the suitcase to be discovered and get you in trouble with the detective. Everyone knows you can’t leave a body out in the open for the police.”

  “Right now I’m looking at Chen and Sakai, but the way Ikida talked with Taejin, it might be him, too.”

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p; Kurosawa laughed. “What do you have against Sakai? You think everything bad is his fault.”

  Of course Kurosawa would try to justify Sakai.

  “If Miko hadn’t chosen me, she would’ve chosen him. He has the most to gain if I fail,” Nao said.

  “Sakai is a businessman and wouldn’t want to dirty himself dealing with the street side of things. He can’t own any business being the yakuza head. Being in business keeps him financially free, which he couldn’t do as a godfather.”

  “The extra income is showing up in the books. So it has to be someone with power giving the orders.”

  Nao sighed and rubbed his eyes with the palm of his hand.

  Kurosawa shrugged. “Maybe finding the right person and handing him over to the police would be a good thing. It’ll show everyone that you aren’t going to accept a fall guy if someone is directly going against your orders.”

  “So now you think it’s a good thing?”

  “Unless it’s an hour before midnight and you still have no one, then I think it’s a horrible idea.”

  Kurosawa parked the car along the street of Ikida’s home. A large wall gated the entry, and trees dotted the sidewalk, their branches cut away to make room for the power lines.

  The two men walked down to the entry until Kohta hopped down from the tree, a pair of binoculars around his neck. Nao half expected them to be designer brand. Either way, seeing him try so hard made Nao smile.

  “You brought him with you this time.” Kohta pointed to Kurosawa.

  “He’s hard to avoid during the day,” Nao said. “What did you find?”

  “A few minutes ago, the classy lady got an envelope from some middle-aged guy inside.”

  “When she comes out, do you think you can take it from her?” Nao asked.

  Kohta crossed his arms. “I do sleight of hand. I’m not a thief.”

  “You took the note off the drug dealer. You can do it.”

  They waited nearby the entry of the compound until the gate opened. Kayako messed with her phone as the group walked to her as if they just happened to be in the area.

  “Mr. Murata, it’s nice to see you again,” Kayako said.

  Nao smiled. “Thank you for your help with the briefcase. You came to visit Ikida?”

  “I brought over some food to make it easier on his wife. The move and his mother can be stressful. So now she has one less thing to worry about. She really is a gem once you get to know her.”

  She slid her phone back into her large bag then rubbed her thumb along the handles.

  “Let me introduce you to Kohta,” Nao said.

  Kohta bowed and stood up with a smile. The charm oozed off Kohta, and by the dreamy look in Kayako’s eyes, she was trapped in that brilliant smile.

  “Is that the Louis Vuitton Neverfull bag?” Kohta asked.

  “Yes, it’s an amazing bag,” Kayako said.

  “I like the monogram bags more than the newer epi-leather.”

  Kohta pointed to the leather edges. “The patina on this is so lovely. How long did it take to get the color?”

  “I used it a lot when I first bought it, so it only took a few months.”

  The purse chatter went on. Nao tried not to look bored, because each question Kohta asked lulled Kayako into trusting him a little more. She held up her bag for Kohta to feel the weight of the tote. His hand slipped, and the bag tipped over, throwing everything to the ground.

  “I’m so sorry.” Kohta swept the scattered contents back into the bag and handed it back with another apology.

  Kurosawa cleared his throat. “To maintain our schedule, we need to get moving.”

  “Of course.” Kohta smiled. “I hope next time I see you, Kayako, maybe then I can show you my own bag.”

  She smiled and gave a formal goodbye to Nao.

  They waited until she disappeared around the corner before talking.

  “Did you get the envelope after spending twenty minutes talking about a bag?” Nao asked.

  “It’s all about charming them, and then they’re putty in your hands.” Kohta held up a red envelope.

  Nao snatched it, and while Kohta prattled on about the finer points of charming a woman, Nao counted the money inside.

  “There’s a million yen here,” Nao said, then pulled out a note stuffed between the thousand-yen notes.

  “It’s in English?” Kurosawa asked.

  “The drug dealer was a Westerner.”

  Nao plucked the note from the cash and took out the last English note he kept in his wallet. He compared their loops and lines.

  “They’re not the same.” Nao sighed and folded both notes into his wallet. “I want to talk to Ikida.”

  “We can do that.”

  “Kohta, follow Kayako. I want to know where she goes next.”

  Kohta nodded. “Sure, boss.”

  He ran to where she had disappeared, while Kurosawa and Nao walked to the gate of Ikida’s mansion. A stone plaque on the entry gate wrote out their family name in elegant kanji. Nao pushed opened the heavy cedar gate.

  Nao’s stomach churned as they walked the winding path to the historic mansion. Ikida could trace his lineage back to the Heian era, the very enclave of Japanese society. When Nao followed his, it led to the Meiji era and a family of meat-packers, a fact better left forgotten and out of the family registry.

  A half-broken blue tile roof hung over the entryway. Clouded lacquered wood covered the entry, and the scratched floor had lost all luster, exposing bug-tunneled, rotting wood underneath. Such a beautiful home should’ve never fallen into such neglect.

  Kurosawa knocked on the door, and a girl about seven years old answered.

  “Hello?” she said.

  Nao smiled. “We need to see your father.”

  “Okay, I’ll go get him.”

  She tottered off but left the door open. Nao let himself in and slipped off his shoes. He glanced back to Kurosawa, who stood outside.

  “We haven’t been invited.”

  “What’s Ikida going to do? Complain? Now go look for anything suspicious.”

  Boxes lined the walls of the home, but the large wooden beams stole all of Nao’s attention for those first few seconds. Then the damp musk settled in Nao’s nose. The house deserved someone who appreciated it.

  Nao stepped into the engawa, a veranda hallway around the inner perimeter of the U-shaped home that showed off the overgrown garden. Someone had updated it, putting in thick wood-framed sliding windows, but half were missing from the folded closures, and the others looked broken and trapped in place. Water stains coiled on the straw tatami mats, while in other places the straw frayed.

  Nao slid open one of the doors to a room lined with shelves. Boxes marked “books” stood like forgotten trees, and a neglected desk was pushed to one corner. He crept inside the study and skimmed over the marked boxes. One marked “English books” pulled his attention, and he opened the box and riffled through one of the books.

  Nothing.

  He put the book aside and took one out with a mix of Japanese and English on the spine. The inside proved to be more English than Japanese, but notes were written on the pages. The first hundred or so were all in Japanese, but in the later pages turned to English.

  He opened the book to the page with the most English writing and set it on top of the box and compared it to the two notes. The writing from the first note from the drug dealers looked off. The “a” in the book was more like the usual way with the hook over the circle, but the “a” in the note was just a circle with a stick at the end. The note tucked in with the cash didn’t match the letters at all.

  The handwriting in the book might not be Ikida’s. Nao squinted, staring at the way the “d” had a similar loop, and they shared the same off-center look of the “c.”

  A breath caught in Nao’s throat. Ikida had written the note with the money in it, but without knowing what the note said, it could be about anything.

  “Father Murata,” Ikida said.
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  “Hello, Ikida.” Nao closed the book, sliding the notes out with his palm and shoving them into his pocket. “We ran into Kayako on our way here.”

  “Kayako came by to chat with the wife. You know female gossip.”

  The air thickened, and heavy musk filled Nao’s nose. Both Ikida and Kayako had lied about the reason for her visit. Maybe Kayako played a bigger role than Nao had previously thought.

  Ikida pushed up the sleeves of his shirt then rocked back on his heels. “May I ask about your visit? I know you enjoy traditions, and it must be amazing for you to see a home as old as this still kept in its original family.”

  Nao’s eyes narrowed at the dig. “You have been missing from your duties.”

  “Sakai has excused me.”

  Nao met Ikida’s cold gaze and said, “Funny, I thought I was the head of the family.”

  “You are, but—”

  “I expect you back to your duties tomorrow. Do you understand?”

  Ikida broke away from Nao’s gaze. “Certainly.”

  “I’m glad we’re in this together. We can give you a few of the recruits to help you with the unpacking.”

  “I don’t really want my family mixed up with the business.”

  Nao cocked an eyebrow. “The wife doesn’t approve?”

  “She’d rather pretend I’m the average salaryman but with triple the income.”

  “You’ll be stuck unloading all these books yourself.”

  “Is that why you decided to help?”

  Nao smiled and put the English book he held on a nearby shelf. As he turned, he could feel Ikida’s stare boring holes into his back. Nao’s muscles tightened. Ikida’s jerky movements screamed out that he was up to something.

  “You’ve got so many English books,” Nao said. “No wonder you could chat along with Taejin so easily.”

  “I’d thought about going for an English degree but ended up in business. With the global economy speaking English, it was a huge advantage, though.”

  “Was your mother happy you spent your education only to end up with the yakuza?”

  “Not everyone is lucky enough to be born into the family.”

  A sly grin curled on Nao’s lips. “Too bad your family with such history couldn’t maintain this lovely home. It’s more a history of mold than Japan.”

 

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