“No, no they don’t,” Akiyama said. “But maybe they’re testing the waters. Seeing if you push back before establishing their beachhead. Forging ahead until they sense resistance.”
“Yes. Strange they would push into Kawasaki City, which is clearly your home turf, without so much as a by-your-leave.”
“Well, I certainly see your point. But I don’t want to risk the fragile peace we’ve reached.”
Tamazaki was relieved to hear his boss be sensible for once.
“Of course, of course,” Yoshii said. “But you don’t have to resort to bloodshed to make yourself heard. It’s not uncommon to exact a tribute, of sorts, from a rival gang that you graciously allow to operate on your turf.”
“It’s a show of respect, really,” Akiyama added. “A sign that you are in control, and that they recognize your authority in the region. Proof that you are master of your domain.”
“Yes, exactly!” Yoshii said with a smile. “You are the master of your domain, aren’t you?”
Tamazaki’s heart sank as Chobei began nodding along.
“Perhaps you’re right. I’ll speak with this Soseki, see if we can’t work out an arrangement.”
“I’m sure with your knack for diplomacy, you’d be able to work something out without a problem.”
“Yes. If that mangled freak doesn’t see how reasonable we are, I’ll make him see it.” Chobei was already warming to the idea.
“Good lad. You see, Chobei, you must always command respect. Because in this game, without respect you are nothing. And that’s why no response is too extreme, or off-limits, when honor is at stake.”
Chobei nodded solemnly at this. “I feel the same way.”
Yoshii flashed his snake’s grin.
“So glad to hear you say that!”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Mei stood in the doorway to her father’s apartment, staring at the scene before her in mute shock. It wasn’t the fact that her father was slouched against the wall covered in blood that unnerved her so much. It was the fact that he was laughing hysterically.
She ran over and crouched down in front of him, unsure of what to do.
“Jesus, Dad, are you okay?”
His face turned serious in an instant as he regarded her. Then he looked down at himself. One hand, dangling from his knee, was bleeding profusely, blood smeared on his rumpled clothing where he had tried to wipe it off. Angry streaks of crimson slashed across his shirt, while more bubbled up from a cut on his head, causing his greasy, unwashed hair to mat up into clumps.
From his other hand dangled a mostly empty bottle of shochu streaked with blood up top, which turned to a pink dew at the bottom, where it mixed with the condensation on the bottle. He turned his puffy, bloodshot eyes back to her and spoke in his gentlest, most fatherly tone.
“Why, I’m fine, dear, thanks for asking.”
He began to snicker, which gave way to a howling cackle of laughter. He brought the bottle of shochu up for another pull. Mei took it off him when he was done.
“Come on, Dad, let’s get you cleaned up.”
She dragged him to his feet and guided him to the bathroom. She was surprised by how light he felt, as if it was a bundle of sticks under his clothing. She maneuvered him to the sink and began washing him off with soapy water. Then she steered him into the kitchen, to a seat at the table. She grabbed a beer from the fridge and sat down opposite him. Mei wasn’t too pleased to see that he had found another bottle somewhere, but she didn’t say anything.
“So what’s this all about?”
“I lost it.”
“Yeah, no shit, Dad—”
“I lost my healthcare. And my pension. But it’s the healthcare that’s got me worried.”
“Oh my God. I thought they couldn’t do that. Is this because of … you know, the raid?”
“That’s what I thought too, but no. The government doesn’t have the money to fund the pensions, so they’re just not honoring them. And as for healthcare, I went to the hospital recently for some tests. They said they couldn’t accept my government insurance card.”
“I’m sure it’s just a clerical error or something.”
“The pension I can probably get by without,” he said as if he hadn’t heard her. “I’ve got some money saved up, I’ll make do. But not the health insurance. I can’t get by without that.”
“Well, luckily you don’t have any health issues right now. That should …” She trailed off when she saw the look on his face. “Dad?”
“Cancer.”
“What?”
“Of the thyroid. Just like your mom. Hell, just like everyone else in this city.”
“Oh God, Dad … I don’t …”
She sat there stunned. Finally it occurred to her to go and comfort him. She went around and gave him an awkward sideways hug, which he halfheartedly returned. She took the seat next to him, holding on to his hand.
“How do you feel?”
“Like I just got fucked in the ass.” He took another pull off his shochu.
She was shocked less by the words, and more by hearing them from her dad. He almost never swore. Mei took the bottle from him and put it on the table.
“Seriously, do you have any symptoms?”
“I’m tired a lot. Not much appetite.”
“We’ll get this sorted out.”
He shook his head. “I’ve been calling old friends, seeing if they’ve had the same experience. Reached a few of them. As for the rest, mostly talked to their widows. A lot of them told me the same story.”
“It’s got to be a mistake. They can’t just leave former police out in the cold like this.”
“I thought so too. Finally reached one of my old commanding officers. He said it wasn’t a fluke, that it’s been going on for a while now because of the underfunded pension scheme. ‘Sacrifices have to be made,’ is the way he put it.”
“How come this hasn’t been in the papers?”
Her father snorted, then laughed. “Because the Asahi Shimbun and NHK are basically just mouthpieces for the administration. The others have been gutted to the point where they just base their reporting on what the Asahi writes. Couple of blogs are covering it. Not that anyone’s listening to what they say.”
“I can't believe the other parties aren't hammering them on it.”
“What I’ve heard is it was slipped into last year’s emergency spending bill and passed without debate or opposition. Now the other parties don't want to make it an issue, because they’d have to admit they didn't read the damn thing.”
“How long do you have?”
“With treatment? Years, maybe. Without? A few months.”
“This isn’t right.”
“No, it’s not. But it’s the way it is. Nothing we can do about it.”
“Bullshit, we’re going to fight this.”
Mei was growing heated. She considered things like concern and sympathy to be useless, just wasted emotion. But anger, that was something she could work with. Something she could use to fuel her.
“I’m not going to stand by and just let them—”
“Stop,” her father said, weakly. “Just stop.”
“Dad?”
“It’s just, being faced with this … it got me thinking. Well, I was drinking too, and that helped. But it occurred to me that I was so afraid to die, but … but why? I already died the day I quit the force. I mean, spiritually, at least. The only thing that didn’t die that day was this … this … dross,” he said with a contemptuous wave at his body.
“Dad, I don’t like hearing you talk this way.”
“But why bother? Why bother trying to save this? Without the spirit, what’s left? Nothing but flesh and bone. Just the perishable. So just … let it perish.”
“Why did you do it, Dad? Why did you quit?”
Her father shook his head and looked away. Every time she had asked before, he had deflected the question. She had been in high school when her father had quit
. And even though it had shattered her image of the man she loved, he had always refused to talk about it. The fact that he wouldn’t even acknowledge it or own up had just fueled her resentment further.
“You really want to know, don’t you?”
Mei nodded.
“How much of the story do you already know?”
“Just the basics. That you led a raid as part of some big case, then destroyed the evidence and quit the same day.”
Her father nodded. “Guess it’s about time you heard the rest, then.” He took a long pull on the bottle. Even then he seemed reluctant.
“What did you find in there?”
“We never searched the place. I’m sure the evidence was there. But we never even looked. Because what we saw when we got there stopped us cold.”
“What?”
“The walls were hung with pictures. Hundreds of them, in color, black and white, all shapes and sizes, you name it. Those pictures …” He shook his head.
“What were they pictures of?”
“You, mostly.”
“Me?”
“And your mother. Some with me in them too, as I recall. But it was the ones with you that terrified me the most. There were photos of the other cops’ families too, of course.”
“Photos of me … doing what?”
“Going to school, practicing with your martial arts club, hanging out with your friends, even some of you sleeping in your room.”
Mei wanted to be sick. She felt violated. Without meeting her gaze, her father continued.
“And the thing is, they went back years. I mean, they had been keeping tabs on our family for quite some time. Longer than our investigation into them. I thought that finally it was our turn to catch them with their pants down, but they saw us coming from miles away.”
“So you just left straight away, then?”
“Not right away. There was a single guy in the headquarters. He just sat there, twirling around in his office chair. Sometimes he’d get up to point out pictures he particularly liked. But mostly he just sat there grinning this shit-eating grin. He didn’t have to tell me what the pictures meant. The threat was clear. So, I did the only thing I could do. I …”
He faltered here, choking on his own words.
“I went back to the precinct, piled up our evidence boxes—the sum total of a painstaking three-year investigation, mind you—and set it on fire. I sat there watching as my investigation, my career, my future, all of it, turned to smoke and ash. It only took about fifteen minutes for a lifetime’s worth of work to go completely up in flames.”
Mei looked down at her hands. She had no idea what to say. Seeing her father talk about it now, she realized that this wasn’t an old wound. Even after all this time, it had clearly remained open and festering. She hated herself in that moment for all the times she had poked at it, taking her cruel jabs at him, considering he had borne this cross for her sake.
“Didn’t matter, though, in the end. Not really. Because I lost you that day anyway. Your respect for me burned up faster than those boxes did when you heard.”
“Dad, I’m so sorry, if I had known—”
“If you had known, you’d have been too terrified to leave the apartment. No, I couldn’t tell you the truth, much as I might have wanted. Then again, I had no idea at the time how long or how hot your disdain for me would burn.”
“I’m sorry, Dad. I’ve been too hard on you. I wish you had said something, at some point.”
Her father gave a wave of his hand. “It’s in the past. Let it lie.”
“I can’t change the past, but I sure as shit can do something about the future. And we’re going to fight this, Dad. No way am I going to let this stand.”
“No one else has been able to get their death sentence reversed. Least none of the friends or widows I talked to. Not sure what you plan to do different.”
“I don’t either,” Mei said. “But we’ll figure something out. You’re worth fighting for.”
With that, Mei gave her father a bear hug. He was confused at first, but eventually he began to hug her back.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“I don’t owe you anything, you know.”
Satoshi could only see Uemura’s eyes through the narrow gap between the door and its frame allowed by the short chain lock. Uemura tried to close the door completely, but Satoshi was able to wedge it open with his foot. The man on the other side swore at him.
Uemura had been part of the same crew as Satoshi and Masa under Osammy “The Whale” Nakamoto. At least until Osammy had turned against him for reasons Satoshi still didn’t fully understand. Their boss had had Satoshi and Masa rough him up to teach him a lesson on the way out. Satoshi didn’t even remember what the lesson was now. But it looked like Uemura hadn’t forgotten.
“I know you don’t owe me anything, I just want to talk. Won’t take a minute.”
“Well, since I can’t close my door until you’re gone, ask away.”
“You going to let me in?” Satoshi asked.
Some of the building’s other residents were walking by. It was hard to appear nonchalant as he stood propping the man’s door open.
“No.”
Satoshi sighed. “Fine. I’m looking for Masa. I wanted to see if you’ve seen or heard anything from him.”
“Yeah, where is Masa?” Uemura asked, peering past Satoshi. “Shouldn’t your little butt-boy be right here with you? Maybe with your hands in each other’s back pockets?”
“We had a bit of a falling out. I need to find him now.”
“Can’t say I’ve seen him. Which is really about the one bright spot in my life right now.”
“Have you heard anything from—”
“You know I still have chronic back pain from that night?”
“What, you mean from—”
“Yeah, the beating you assholes laid on me.”
“Look, I didn't lay a finger on you. That was Masa.”
“No, you just held me down, as I recall.”
“Well, it’s not like I gave the orders. That was—”
“I know who gave the orders! Fuck’s sake, kid, I was a member of that crew too, you know. I joined them when you and Masa were still sucking at your mothers’ teats. Hell, I was there before Osammy even came on, and lasted right until he kicked me out.”
“Then you should understand my position,” Satoshi said. “Osammy didn’t exactly take kindly to dissent.”
“You’ve always been a good little Nazi,” Uemura spat. “Always just following orders, this one. Why ask uncomfortable questions when you can just use your fists?”
“Goddammit, you know I hated Osammy every bit as much as you did. The man was a monster—”
“And yet that didn’t stop you from doing his dirty work.”
“Orders are orders. Osammy didn’t like me much more than he did you. Especially not after that Osammy Ball bullshit. If I stopped doing what I was told—”
“So you fucked up my life to save your own worthless ass? Typical.”
“You know, if it’s any consolation, I’m looking for Masa because Vasili wants him …”
“What?”
“Vasili wants him dead. So if you want to get back at him, now’s your chance.”
“Ho-ho! So now the right hand has turned on the left. Do you not have even just a shred of honor to you? Have you ever even heard the word integrity?”
Satoshi said nothing. He could put up with a little abuse if it got him somewhere.
“You know, if this role of yours as a bootlicker to the yakuza doesn’t work out, you could probably get a gig with the Dark Army. I’m sure those fascists have some nice black boots you could lick clean for them.”
“You know anything or not?”
“Me? Oh, how I wish I did. But sadly I don’t. I left that game the same night you left me battered and broken.”
“I said—”
“But Osammy, he’d know.”
“You winding
me up again?”
“Nope. Straight shit here. Heard it from Yunokawa that Osammy’s been seeing Masa a lot lately. Like they’re working on something together.”
“Damn,” Satoshi said with a shake of his head. “Everything keeps leading me back to Osammy.” It wasn’t a direction he wanted to head in.
“Yeah, welcome to my world.”
“You’re sure about this?”
“I trust Yunokawa. He’s a stand-up guy. In fact, I think he was the only one that didn’t turn his back on me when the rest of you—”
“Right, got it. Looks like I’ll have to pay Osammy a visit, then. Thanks for your help.”
Satoshi began walking away.
“Hey, Satoshi?”
He stopped and looked back.
“I hope you do find your girlfriend, if only so that Vasili puts that mad dog down.”
“Thanks for your support.”
“And when you’re done, don’t forget to kill yourself too.”
“Yeah, we used to fuck. That what you want to know?”
“No, I want to know where he is.”
“Oh. Can’t help you there.”
Satoshi sighed. Of course not.
He had tracked down one of Masa’s old girlfriends (or fuck-buddies, to hear her tell it). Now he was sitting at the bar of the strip club where she worked, chatting her up on her smoke break. Through the hazy mist of blue smoke from her cigarette, he could see several topless dancers swaying listlessly on the stage for the sparse early-evening crowd. Satoshi looked back at the woman, who said her name was Hoshi.
He should be home with Hisoka now, helping her recover and mending the damage he had done to their relationship. Instead he was back on the trail. He sighed and tried to ignore the guilt and shame burning a hole through him.
“No? You never went back to his place for any of your romantic trysts?”
Hoshi snorted. “You’re funny. He took me back to a few of his hovels. Vacants he was squatting in, or filthy flophouses. But he moved around a lot. He was pretty paranoid. I insisted on love hotels after I saw one of the mattresses moving.”
Tokyo Noir: The Complete First Season Page 48