“No, no. Not for me.”
“Sure,” Johnny said, lighting up the first cigarette in his mouth and taking a deep drag.
“Hey, Gabriel,” he started. “You remember that umbrella I told you about? The midnight-green one that I left at the hotel that night?”
“Oh, Akira’s old thing? I plumb forgot about it. Sorry, Johnny. I’ll have it picked up and returned right away.”
“Akira?” Johnny asked. “I don’t remember ever saying the name Akira.”
“Didn’t you? I could’ve sworn it was. The watchmaker in The Lugs, right? Off Flute street?”
“Yeah, that’s right. Goes by Pinion.”
“Pinion!” Gabriel clapped his hands together. “It’s no wonder I forgot a strange name like that.”
“Akira’s your father’s name,” Johnny commented.
“Indeed it is,” he said. “I don’t have any idea how I got that mixed up.”
“Maybe you didn’t get it mixed up,” Johnny said.
Gabriel let out a nervous laugh before picking up his fork and shoveling an overly large scallop into his mouth.
“I have another question for you, Gabriel,” Johnny asked coldly.
“Mm!” Gabriel motioned for him to continue, his mouth too full to speak.
“Just before Zachary Finch happened to fall off the cliff by the clocktower, he told me something very interesting.”
“Interesting?” Gabriel said, wiping his mouth with a cloth.
“Yeah, real interesting. See, I was breaking his fingers one by one. Bending them backwards until they just gave this snap, you know? Oh, he was begging for me to stop. I’m surprised he didn’t just pass out from the pain right there.”
Gabriel shifted in his seat, in clear discomfort at the description.
“So I told him, I said ‘Zachary, if you want me to stop, you have to tell the truth.’ But that sniggering rat just couldn’t help but lie even more. He said that he hadn’t been the one to arm Mari. That he had given his knife to Ayano. Can you believe it?”
“No,” Gabriel responded.
“Neither could I. So you know what I did? I broke another finger!” Johnny laughed, maniacally so, but there was no more need to be coy.
It was Gabriel who moved first, throwing his hand down to his side before ripping out his old steel 1911. But before he even had his sights trained, Johnny already had his revolver in hand, leaving the two men in a standoff from across the table.
“You could’ve walked away,” Gabriel said, shaking his head. “You could’ve walked right out that door, and been a man fifty grand richer. You could’ve lived a quiet life in Los Angeles, and forgotten about this whole ordeal. But you just couldn’t do it, could you?”
“It was never about the money,” Johnny said.
“Don’t lie,” Gabriel responded. “You’re a small-time PI, who makes his daily bread by chasing down lecherous husbands so their wives can win their divorce cases. You sleep in your office because you barely have a home to return to.”
“I sniffed you out, didn’t I?”
“Ha!” Gabriel laughed. “What does it matter? You did everything I expected you to do. Wonderfully so, I might add. You were the little sprinkle of chaos I needed to turn the leadership of this city upside down, and take back what was rightfully mine.”
“Was it worth it? Was taking Mari’s life from her worth it?”
“It was,” Gabriel said without hesitation. “Ayano already hated the poor girl after she found out that her pet had been railing her three nights a week. All she needed was a little push. A little whisper in her ear. It’s amazing what one can accomplish with a whisper, Johnny. Just a few honeyed words, and the whole world changes.”
“You can’t stop her, you know. Ayano. She’s already out. Already among us.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Gabriel shrugged. “She can play whatever little game she likes, but in the end, she’s just a girl. Not even Ninomiya’s little toy in her chest will save her from me. But you? There’s still a chance for you, Johnny. Put down the gun. Walk out the way you came. I’ll give you this chance because you impressed me, and I suggest that you take it.”
Johnny’s eyes never wavered. His hand was steady, and his grip firm. The finger on the trigger of his .38 squeezed without any conscious effort. If the best he could hope for was a stalemate, then he would take it, knowing he had robbed his opponent of victory.
The pistols fired at the same. Their white-hot contents sank with equal speed into the chests of their respective targets, sending both men down to the floor.
“Mari,” Johnny whispered with his dying breaths. “I’m sorry.”
He closed his eyes, smiling as the last light of life left him, until nothing remained but black oblivion.
Epilogue
It is well past midnight by the time Jack returns from his nightly errand. He leaves his BMW parked across two spaces at the rear of The Buckle, then proceeds into the nightclub. The twins are standing guard at the entrance, and they give him a deep bow before opening the doors, letting him inside.
“You’re late, Jack,” Sunflower says. “Mamasama’s not going to be happy.”
“She never is,” Jack says as he rubs a sore spot on his upper chest. The memory of a blade still lingers in his flesh, causing it to itch incessantly.
“Is he here?” Jack asks.
“The watchmaker arrived a half hour ago,” Violet says.
“Good,” Jack says. He leaves the twins and proceeds inside. The nightclub is dark and bereft of patrons. The only light comes from the low-hanging half-moon, but Jack knows the club well enough not to need it. He has memorized how many steps it takes to traverse each hall. His hands reach for doorknobs instinctively, and before long, he is climbing down the spiral stairs of The Buckle, where his mother and her guest are waiting.
“Jack?” the voice of a girl calls out to him on the third floor down. She stands in the doorway of one of the bedrooms, wearing a long coat over her work uniform. She has full, flowing black hair, and looks up at him through a pair of almond-brown eyes.
“What is it, Lisa?” he asks.
Lisa looks around for a moment, then steps out of the doorway and approaches him. She is one of the newer girls, less than six months on the job. They graduated from high school the same year, but the two barely exchanged morning greetings back then.
“Did you come from the city?” she asks.
“Yeah,” Jack says as he puts a hand on his hip. “It’s pretty bad.”
“Do you think it’s true?” she asks. “What they say about the First Index? That she’s divine?”
Jack shakes his head. The rumors have been steadily increasing for weeks now, as have the sightings.
“It’s all just bullshit that the Chorus makes up,” Jack lies. “Pay it no mind.”
“But what if it’s true?” she asks again.
Jack shrugs and lets out an annoyed sigh.
“I’m sorry,” Lisa says, noticing his frustration. “Will you come sleep with me again tonight? I’m scared.”
“I don’t think I’ll have time tonight,” Jack says. “Besides, I—”
“Jack!” the voice of Mutsumi Baba rings up from below.
Lisa looks down through the glass floor, then back up at him, but he has already turned around and is heading downstairs.
“Try to get some sleep, Lisa,” he says as he disappears from her sight. She shakes her head, then returns to her bedroom.
The Sixth Index sits on her long, white sofa in the center of the bottom floor. Across from her rests a man who Jack knows by name, but has never seen before. He is an older, thinning gentleman with a full mustache and a head of graying hair. On his wrist is a square-faced watch of stainless steel, illuminated only by a single candle that sits on the table between them.
“What took you so long?” Mamasama asks. Her face has aged terribly in the past weeks, and it is clear that she is in no mood for any of his usual nonsense.
“Getting in and out of the city has gotten quite a bit harder,” Jack says. He knows she doesn’t want to hear his excuses, but it’s the truth.
“The Chorus is everywhere. Their numbers grow by the day.”
“Did you get what we needed?” she asks.
Jack scratches an itch on his nose, then gives her a nod.
“Yes,” he says. “Everything is prepared.”
Mutsumi Baba gives a nod of approval, then invites him to take his place at her side. The man sitting across from them has been silent throughout. He takes deep inhales from a half-consumed cigarette at his lips, but otherwise is still.
“Akira,” she says after a long moment. “It’s time.”
“Time?” the man asks. “You know not what you ask of me, Mutsumi. I took an oath never to make one of those machines again.”
“You also took an oath to Sonnerie,” she says. “And look how that turned out.”
“The others knew naught what powers they were dealing with back then. Just like you have no idea of what you ask of me now.”
“Don’t I?” she says. Her tone is visceral, and betrays the patience she has lost with her guest. “You’ve been hiding in that little shop for how many years? The greatest watchmaker in all Sonnerie, hiding under a pseudonym, spending his days making little watches for no one to buy. That is no kind of life for an Index.”
“It’s life enough for me,” he says. “And don’t call me Akira anymore. That man died the night he set fire to his workshop.”
“Pinion, then?” Mutsumi Baba scoffs. “You can call yourself that if you like, but you’ll never be able to escape your past. Fifth Index Akira Itsuka, our greatest treasure, and our greatest disappointment.”
Pinion takes another drag of his cigarette, but ignores the provocation.
“It’s your abandonment of our city that led your son astray,” she spits. “It’s your renouncement of our ways that let Ninomiya rise as high as he did. It’s not me who should be asking you for help, Akira. It’s you who should be on your knees, begging for a chance to save the city you let burn. What would Shimotsuki say if he could see you now?”
“Do not say his name!” Pinion shouts. He smashes his spent cigarette into an ashtray on the table, then picks it up and hurls it at the picture of the original Indices hanging from the wall in front of him. It strikes true, shattering both the picture and the ashtray, sending their fragments to the floor.
Mutsumi Baba recoils, and Jack sees the briefest glint of fear in her eyes. He knows what she is trying to do, but whether or not it will work remains to be seen.
“They took everything from me.” Pinion’s voice cracks. “My life, my work, my own son!”
“Akira,” Mutsumi says. Her voice is softer now. She stands and comes to Pinion’s side. “You must help us. For Gabriel’s sake. For all our sakes. This cannot be allowed to continue.”
Pinion balls his hands into fists, and Jack watches intently as the man steadies his breathing, then takes a seat once more alongside his former compatriot. He buries his head in his hands, and for a long while, the three sit in silence.
“What would you ask of me?” Pinion finally says.
Mamasama looks at Jack, and gives him a nod. He opens a pocket in his messenger bag, and retrieves a sturdy, two-tone Rolex with a fluted bezel from it, then places it on the table in front of the watchmaker.
Pinion takes the timepiece and runs a finger across the sapphire. It ticks away the seconds quietly between them, and as it does, Jack pulls two more items from his bag. A small notebook, and an empty revolver.
“I have everything you asked for, Mother. But there is something else I must report,” he says, looking Mamasama in the eye. She meets his gaze, and waits for him to continue.
“Last night, Ayano was seen leaving the hospital. I was curious why she would visit that place, as by my knowledge, she has no need of medical attention.”
He takes out a folder from his bag and passes it to his mother, who opens it and begins scanning its contents.
“This is . . .” she whispers.
“Yes,” Jack says. He takes a deep breath before placing a hand back over the spot on his chest where he was stabbed, then speaks once more.
“Ayano Hanekawa is pregnant.”
To the reader,
Thank you for reading your copy of Clocktower. It has long been my biggest dream to write stories about the country I live in, and the wonderfully rich culture and mythology that it has. If you enjoyed the novel, please leave a review on Amazon or Goodreads, or anywhere you happen to write reviews, as it really helps me out. If you would like more information about my upcoming works, or just about Japan in general, please visit my website at www.cavalentine.com. You can also find me on Twitter @cavalentine1 and on Facebook at www.facebook.com/cavalentine1.
C. A. Valentine
C. A. Valentine was born in Pasadena, California, in 1986 and now lives near Kyoto, Japan. He first emigrated to Japan in 2009, where he was greatly inspired to write stories about the country. He moved to Toyama, Japan in 2012, where he met his wife and began working on his first novel, Okey-Dokey Sensei. Valentine is an active part of the foreign community in Japan, and has written several works on living in the country as an immigrant. All of these are posted on his website, www.cavalentine.com.
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