by Mark McKay
There was a console in the lounge that controlled the cameras and the motion sensors that Oyama had been so keen on installing. You could monitor the whole thing from a personal computer, as long as it was switched on. But someone had switched it off. He wondered if Oyama had done that. He switched the cameras on and left the sensors, for now. They could be activated overnight, and they would be. Whoever had planted that sword was still out there somewhere, and they would be targeting him and Mariko next.
Nick was of the opinion that instead of simply trying to assassinate the sensei, Takashi Yamada had somehow contrived to draw out his suffering by planting the sword at the cottage and tipping off the police. Once Oyama was arrested, he would be subjected to the stress of a trial, with the very real possibility of a long sentence at the end of it. While serving that sentence, it would then be easy enough to pay someone to kill him inside the prison. Oyama wouldn’t be a soft target, but he’d be aware that he was a marked man and that would only add to his stress levels. As a tactic to provoke suffering, it was very effective. Why kill a man when you can make his life a living hell, instead?
The sword was a compelling piece of evidence, difficult to refute. The only advantage that he and Mariko had in trying to refute it was that they knew the arresting officer, DCI Russell. Nick was going to update Russell on events in Peru anyway, so he would use that meeting to get some details on Oyama’s arrest. There might be something in that conversation to provide a lead from the sword back to whoever had planted it. Right now though, the situation looked rather unpromising. He went back to the kitchen, where Mariko handed him a cup of tea.
‘I’m going to meet with Russell and Richards,’ said Nick. ‘Soon as possible.’
‘I will make enquiries in Japan. There are organisations that provide paid assassins, I know of some of them. They are almost impossible to penetrate, but I will see what I can find out.’
As a plan of action, it was vague. But it was a start. They unpacked and then Nick took a walk around the property. Everything looked much as it had when he’d last been here. The dojo was the same and the forge was tidy. Someone had cleaned the furnace and the blade of the newest sword was laid out on a work bench, awaiting polishing and sharpening. A makeshift handgrip was attached to it. When he got to the greenhouse he noticed that the door was slightly ajar. He went inside and saw that the plants hadn’t thrived in his absence. In fact, they had started to wither. He supposed that you might grow them in this country, but only under very controlled conditions, and leaving the door open wasn’t one of them.
He came back, towards the house. A car was coming down the drive and he had a moment of concern before he realised it was Shauna driving. She saw him and waved, and then pulled up near the house. She got out.
‘Nick, when did you get back?’ She smiled at him, but he could see that she wasn’t her usual bubbly self.
‘Just a few hours ago. What are you doing here?’
If she thought that was a rude question, she kept it to herself.
‘I came to pick up some clothes, for Katsu.’ Then she backtracked. ‘Did you know? He was arrested.’
‘Yes, we heard a couple of days ago. How did you know? Were you here?’
‘No. The lawyer called me, Katsu asked him to. Can’t remember the man’s name.’
‘Davidson. Actually, I thought you might still be in Ireland.’
‘What? No, I came back a week ago, now. My sister has cancer, she doesn’t have much time left.’
He grimaced in sympathy. ‘Sorry to hear it. Let’s go inside.’
They went into the lounge, where Mariko was sitting working on her laptop. She got up and embraced Shauna and then asked her what she knew about Oyama’s arrest. The Irish woman had nothing to add to their knowledge of the situation. She had been working on the day of the arrest and the lawyer had called her at Katsu’s request, shortly after he’d been taken into custody. When they put him on remand the following day she thought she would come down here and collect some things for him.
‘Visiting hours are tomorrow afternoon,’ she said. ‘I don’t know what he can and can’t have in there, but I’m going to visit tomorrow and see if I can leave the clothes. They can only say no.’
‘Let’s see what we can find,’ suggested Mariko.
The two women went upstairs to rummage through Oyama’s things. They came back ten minutes later with carrier bags stuffed with jeans, shirts and underwear.
‘Will you come with me tomorrow?’ asked Shauna.
‘I want to talk to the officer who arrested him, tomorrow,’ said Nick. ‘I doubt I’ll be able to come with you.’
‘Mariko?’
‘Yes, I’ll come with you.’
‘Great. I will pick you up at 1pm. Is that OK?’
It was. Before Shauna left she wanted to know how things had gone in Peru.
‘What did Katsu tell you?’ asked Mariko.
‘Very little, just that you thought there was a man in Peru who could help you solve the murder you were working on. Did you find him?’
‘We did,’ said Nick. ‘It was a dead end, though. And then the murder weapon turned up here.’
‘What I’d like to know is how it got here,’ said Shauna. ‘As though Katsu would murder someone and then just leave the murder weapon lying around. If the cops believe that…’
They agreed that it wasn’t the action you’d expect if Katsu were the culprit. Shauna sighed and said she had to get back to London. She deposited the carrier bags on the back seat of the car and then drove off.
Nick called Russell, who was in Penzance. He summarised the events in Peru and told the DCI that Torres was probably going to end up in a Peruvian jail. He made no mention of the wealth distribution exercise he’d carried out with Torres’ money.
‘I want to talk about the circumstances leading up to Mr Oyama’s arrest,’ he said to Russell. ‘In person, preferably.’
‘I’ll be in London, tomorrow. Come to Notting Hill Gate at 2pm. DCI Richards will be there, too.’
Nick said he’d be there. Tomorrow, Mariko could talk to Oyama and get his thoughts. Meanwhile, Nick could pump Richards and Russell and gauge their reading of the situation. Shauna did have a point, after all. What self-respecting murderer would leave the murder weapon so close to home? Just so it could be found after the police received a convenient tip off? He’d put those same questions to the two detectives, tomorrow.
He left the cottage at midday, to go up to London. Mariko drove him to the station.
‘Give my best to Katsu,’ he told her. ‘Tell him that I’m talking to the police about him.’
‘I will.’ She kissed him. ‘Come straight back.’
‘Give me the lawyer’s number, will you? I might want to speak to him about Katsu’s defence case.’
Mariko said she’d text it to him. They parted, and he walked into the station and on to the platform, just as the train for London arrived.
He made it to Notting Hill Gate on time. They showed him into an interview room and shortly afterwards he was joined by Russell and Richards. There was plenty to discuss.
‘What’s happening with Conrad Steadman?’ Nick asked.
‘Charged with trafficking cocaine. Awaiting trial,’ replied Richards.
Then Russell had a question. ‘You told me on the phone that Mr Torres denied any part in the murders of Frost and Curtis,’ he said. ‘Did you believe him?’
‘Yes, I did. Conrad is in jail here, Torres is in jail in Peru. And the murder weapon turns up in Sevenoaks. Don’t think it was them, somehow. But I don’t think it was Katsu Oyama, either.’
Russell brushed some lint off his perfectly tailored jacket. ‘Then who was it? I admit that it is all rather convenient and given the fact that he asked you to investigate the murder in the first place…’
‘Which could be his way of committing a very clever crime,’ interrupted Richards.
‘What’s t
he motive?’ asked Nick.
Both detectives were generous enough to concede that the motive was far from clear.
‘Who tipped you off?’ said Nick.
‘Anonymous. A phone call from a payphone, a woman with an American accent.’
‘It’s a plant and you know it.’
Richards raised his hands to heaven. ‘That’s as may be. You produce the person who planted it, and we’ll talk. In the meantime, we have the murder weapon and we have the body of the victim. And Mr Oyama’s prints on the sword.’
‘Of course you’ll have his bloody prints on the sword,’ said Nick. ‘He made it.’
‘Look,’ said Russell. ‘Privately, I agree with you. But given the circumstances we had no choice but to charge him. And unless new evidence comes to light, he’ll go to trial. I’m sorry, Nick, that’s just the way it is. You were a cop, once. You know how it works.’
Yes, he knew how it worked. He said he’d be doing his damnedest to find new evidence and when he did, he’d let them know. He left the station and went across the road to the coffee shop. He rang the number Mariko had texted him, and asked for Mr Davidson. He introduced himself and asked what Davidson thought Oyama’s chances were of being found not guilty.
‘The prosecution will struggle to establish motive,’ said Davidson, who spoke with a cultured Scottish accent. ‘That means the case will rest on circumstantial evidence. It will still be touch and go, in my opinion.’
‘Will you be representing him in court?’
‘Yes, that’s what he instructed me to do. I have a good track record, if that’s what you’re wondering.’
‘That’s reassuring.’
‘Have you seen him, yet?’ asked Davidson.
‘No. Mariko and Shauna are visiting him as we speak. After you told Shauna about his arrest she turned up and collected some clothes for him. They’re attempting to deliver them, now.’
‘Sorry? After I told who?’
‘Shauna. Irish woman. I don’t even know her surname. She’s Katsu’s girlfriend.’
‘That’s very interesting, Mr Severance, but I’m afraid you’ve got it all wrong. The only person I informed about Mr Oyama’s arrest was Mariko. I’ve never heard of a woman named Shauna, let alone spoken to one.’
Nick’s heart missed a beat. ‘Oh, shit,’ he whispered.
‘Something wrong?’
‘Thanks for your time, Mr Davidson. I have to go.’ He disconnected.
He sat there for a moment. Of course, who else would it be but Shauna? She had access to the cottage and she could easily have planted the sword. And where did she get it? From Julian, just before she took his head off with it. If he was right, then she was one of Yamada’s hired killers. She’d been hiding in plain sight, all along. She’d fooled all of them. And right now, she was alone with Mariko. He tried dialling Mariko and got no answer. They could be anywhere by now. He tried to calm down. If Shauna intended to do any harm to Mariko, it could be done in the privacy of the cottage. He needed to get back there, now. Before it was too late.
Chapter 17
He told the taxi to stop half a mile from the cottage. The road here went through a forested area and the trees on each side had their topmost branches joined across it in an arch, like the nave of some huge, gothic cathedral. It blocked out the sun and gave the place a dark, mysterious feel.
‘You sure you want to get out here?’ said the taxi driver.
‘I need the exercise.’
He paid the man and the taxi executed a three-point turn and sped off towards Sevenoaks. Once you came out of this natural cathedral into the light, Oyama’s cottage was only yards away, down a long driveway. He walked briskly down the road and considered the possible scenarios he might soon be facing.
Scenario one was the best case version. Shauna had somehow dreamed that Mr Davidson had told her about Oyama and she had either dropped Mariko off at the cottage after the visit and gone back to London, or the two women were currently sitting in the lounge enjoying a late afternoon tea. Scenario two involved Mariko somehow tumbling to the fact that Shauna wasn’t who she claimed to be, and either neutralising her or getting the hell away from her. That was the preferred case. And number three meant that Shauna had simply kept playing her part and by now had either incapacitated Mariko or killed her. That was the worst, and for him, the most likely case. He tried to temper it with the thought that Mariko wasn’t the easiest person in the world to kill, but it didn’t help much.
He wanted to come at the cottage through the forest, so he stepped into the trees and plotted a route that would take him around and behind it. There was a gun in the VW’s glove box and he had the car keys with him. It was parked near the cottage and he wanted to get into it, unnoticed. But he knew that if the motion sensors were on, it would be impossible.
He came out behind the greenhouse, as planned. There was a gentle slope running from here down to the cottage and he had a good view of the entire property. The outbuildings that housed the forge and the dojo were on his right. On the left was another outbuilding that they’d used as a long term car park for the VW. The cottage stood beyond them, just off to the left. From there, the driveway led up through more trees to the road, some fifty yards away. He could see that Shauna’s car was parked next to his, so she had to be inside the house. His suspicions about her might be totally unfounded, but if they weren’t she would most definitely see him coming. There was no choice, really. He would collect the gun and slip quietly inside, and see which of his three scenarios was the right one.
He walked past the outbuildings, to his car. He collected the gun and stood outside the front door of the cottage, sensing the place. There was at least one person inside, of that he was certain. He opened the door as quietly as he could and went in. Whoever it was seemed to be in the kitchen and when he got close he could smell that bitter aroma, again. The one he remembered from the apartment in Kensington. He pushed open the kitchen door. Mariko sat there, slumped over the table, her head resting on it. She didn’t appear to be breathing. He rushed over to her and put his fingers on her neck, looking for a pulse. He found one, slow but regular. She was alive, but her breathing was so shallow it was almost imperceptible.
‘Put the gun on the table, Nick.’
He didn’t recognise the voice. The Irish accent had gone, replaced with what sounded like an American tone. He turned slowly, placing the gun on the table. Shauna was standing at the kitchen door, with a gun pointed at his chest.
‘You don’t smell it until it’s too late,’ she said. ‘She’ll be out for another twenty minutes, so now you’ll do exactly as I tell you.’
The bouncy Irish woman with her seductive Irish brogue had changed. She’d dropped that whole persona and now her face had a ruthless and unforgiving expression and the eyes were regarding him with a cool, professional detachment.
‘You bitch,’ he said.
There was no reaction. ‘Pick her up,’ she said.
He gathered Mariko into his arms, cradling her body in front of him. Her head was hanging loosely to one side and her long black hair tumbled towards the floor.
‘Let’s go outside,’ said Shauna.
She backed out of the kitchen and he followed. There was nothing he could do with Mariko in his arms and even if she weren’t, he’d never get to Shauna before she pulled the trigger. She got to the front door and opened it. When they got outside she fell in behind, keeping the optimum distance from him.
‘Take her to the forge,’ she ordered.
‘Who are you?’
‘I’m sure you can work it out. Don’t talk, just do as you’re told.’
They got to the forge entrance, and Shauna opened the door. He had to go through sideways to avoid bumping Mariko’s head against the door jamb. He noticed that the lights were already switched on in here.
‘Put her down on that trolley.’
He looked at the trolley in question. It was a f
lat wooden board about six feet long, with metal wheels. He bent at the knees and got Mariko on to it, as gently as he could. She lay on her back, her body loose and relaxed. There were no signs of returning consciousness.
‘Tie her ankles together and then tie her arms to her sides. I’ll be checking the knots, so don’t waste my time by faking them.’
Shauna threw him two lengths of rope, and he set to work. The ankles were easy enough, but trying to pass the rope under Mariko’s back and around her arms was tricky. He had to prop her up, and he was worried about the damage to her neck.
He looked around for a possible weapon. At this end of the forge there were plenty of options, if he could get to them. There were hammers in various sizes hanging on the wall, along with a set of tongs. There were pliers and screwdrivers nearby, and two heavy steel anvils. Right now he would cheerfully smash Shauna’s face with one of those. Ten feet away at the back of the forge stood the furnace, and underneath that was the fire pit. There was charcoal to feed the fire and there was a pile of specially prepared chunks of steel that Oyama imported from Japan, near the pit. The partially finished sword lay on one of the work benches, just feet away. He finished securing Mariko’s bonds and stood up.
‘Put these on and sit on that chair,’ commanded Shauna. She threw him a pair of handcuffs and he had no choice but to follow her instructions. He sat more or less in the middle of the forge, with his hands clasped in front of him, now bound by the cuffs. Shauna checked Mariko, mostly by feel. Her eyes never left him.
‘Now go and pump some air into that furnace,’ she said.
He looked at her and it was difficult to suppress the sense of horror he felt. He’d felt warm when he came in but he’d been too preoccupied with Mariko to think why. The furnace was warming up. When it was at full blast it got very hot in here, and he would most definitely notice that. That wouldn’t happen for another hour. You used a long handle to operate a bellows, and that fed the fire until it got hot enough to melt steel. He could do that easily enough with his hands restricted like this and as he had no say in the matter, he walked across, crouched down, and pumped the handle. He could feel the heat now, caressing his face.