Tokyo Noir: The Complete First Season

by J. Scott Matthews

  “Umeki? That Umeki?”

  Umeki had been Eriko’s chief rival when they were both bosses under Araki.

  “But you two hated each other.”

  “Yeah. That’s probably why he raped me.”

  Vasili covered his mouth with his hand. “I had no idea.”

  “I’ve never been much for talking about it.”

  “Why, then … why carry his baby to full term?”

  “Revenge. I was going to carry his baby so I could tell him it was his. Then I was going to kill it right in front of him.”

  Vasili was too shocked to speak.

  “But of course, he never made it that long. When Araki passed, I had to hurry up with my plans. Hence my little dinner party stunt. By that point I was too far along to have an abortion, so I had Chobei instead.”

  “Do you … do you think you really would have gone through with it? That you really could have gone through with it?”

  “At the time I was sure I could. But now, of course, I know better. He’s my boy, my own flesh and blood.” Eriko laughed. “Of course, since I hadn’t expected to keep him, I had to make some frantic last-minute plans. I remember calling Kuroda from the hospital and telling him that he needed to run out right away and buy a crib, changing table, everything else.”

  “Does he know this?”

  “Of course not. And he’s not going to find out either.”

  “I will say nothing.”

  Eriko sighed. “I don’t know, maybe I did this to him. He has usually come as an … afterthought. At some level I think he knows that the organization always comes first for me. But he’s the person I cherish most in this world, despite everything.”

  “You’re a working woman. Besides, I don't see you as the type to pin up grade school artwork to the refrigerator, or collect tee-ball trophies.”

  She smiled wanly. “No, that’s not the kind of thing I collect. I’ve never shown you my collection, have I?”

  “No. Collection of what?”

  “Kuroda!” she yelled. He appeared instantly. “I want to show Vasili the vault.”

  Kuroda hesitated, for possibly the first time in Vasili’s memory.

  “Are you sure that’s wise, ma’am?”

  “Are you sure it’s wise to question me?” she shot back.

  “Very well. I’ll ready the vault.”

  “This way,” Eriko said to Vasili. “Not many people have seen my collection.”

  “I’ll consider myself lucky.”

  “Well, wait till you see it.”

  She led him to a part of the house that he had never been in before, an area that wasn’t open for official Kaisha business. Her private quarters.

  They came to a room at the end of a long hallway. True to its name, the vault had a door leading into it that was a thick slab of metal with a massive wheel-lock mechanism on the front. It now stood ajar to reveal a room lit with bright floodlights. It looked to be a display room, outfitted with mirrors around the walls and glass display cases inside arranged in a circle. Eriko waved him in.

  Vasili entered the room. The display cases were roughly six feet tall on small pedestals that set them off from the floor. They all contained mannequins made of clear plastic that had been posed in different fashions.

  They were all wearing a strange type of garment that Vasili didn’t immediately recognize. The clothing seemed to be made of leather, and all featured ornate and colorful pictures. It wasn’t until he took a close at one that he realized what he was looking at.

  “Holy fuck,” Vasili said as he recoiled from the nearest display.

  “Seemed like a waste to throw away such beautiful craftsmanship. Most of these were done by Tsujimura, and he always did such lovely work.”

  Vasili swallowed hard and took a closer look at one of the displays. The tattooed, leathery skin extended from below the collarbone down both arms to the wrist, then around the back and down to midthigh. Even with the skin dried out and clearly aging, the vibrant colors and attention to detail of the tattoos were incredible.

  “That one was actually Umeki. I took that one myself. The one next to it was from Okamoto. He put up a fight, let me tell you.”

  “He was dead first, right?” Vasili asked as he walked over to the next case.

  “Mostly. I don’t take kindly to treason, as you know. So I’ve taken these trophies from the enemies I’ve conquered and the people who’ve betrayed me. It gives me some solace to know that they’re posed and displayed under glass for my amusement.”

  “I see you’ve got a few open display cases here.”

  “Well, my time as boss isn’t up yet.”

  Chapter Nine

  Mei glanced at the sign over the door where Kameko’s directions had taken her. Frenchy’s. She didn’t know this particular dive, but she knew its kind. Being a detective meant having to hold her own in dive bars all over the city. Now that she knew where it was, she walked straight on by and kept going. She would have to double back in a few minutes. Just as soon as she lost her tail.

  She hadn’t realized she was being followed right away. In fact, she’d only found out by accident. When she’d left the police station headed for the other side of Shibuya Station, she’d stopped on an elevated pedestrian crosswalk to tie her shoe. When she’d bent over, she’d just happened to notice two men slow their pace to avoid overtaking her. Since then she had wandered around Shibuya aimlessly to see if they were following her. She checked traffic mirrors, reflections in shop windows, even the billboards over Shibuya Crossing that showed a live feed of the pedestrians swarming across. She saw them in every one. They were definitely following her.

  She turned the next corner, then sprinted to another halfway down the alley and turned down that. She repeated this a number of times. She waited for a while to make sure, and when they didn’t show, she doubled back to the bar.

  As she walked, she tried to retrace her steps over the last few days. She couldn’t think of anything incriminating. But then, if she had to watch her every move, that would make things difficult.

  From the top of the stairs, she spotted Kameko sitting at a table along the far wall, alone save for the papers spread out before her. This had better be good, Mei thought as she descended the stairs and walked over.

  Kameko glanced up when she saw Mei arrive, then instantly looked back at her reading material.

  “You’re late.”

  “I had to shake a tail.”

  “What?” Her head snapped up. “Who?”

  “I don’t know. They were on me right out of the station.”

  “Your people, maybe?”

  “Maybe. Letting Satoshi go might have made them suspicious. But even if that’s the case, this is extreme. Maybe Dark Army people. I’ve been ducking them.”

  “Yeah. Or maybe Yoshii’s people. Heard you dick-slapped him in his own place. Metaphorically speaking.”

  “I just asked a few questions.”

  “Yeah. Basically the same thing.”

  “Whatever. Hey, quick question: what the fuck was that tip of yours all about?”

  “Okay, let’s start with that,” Kameko said. “Did you find anything there?”

  “Yeah, a headless corpse in the middle of a tech support company that was the scene of a shootout.”

  “Right, I mean did you find out anything about the guy? Name? Record? Known accomplices? That sort of thing.”

  “No fingerprint match. And since you didn’t leave him with his head on, I can’t exactly check his photo against our database.”

  “First of all, I just want to say I had nothing to do with that,” Kameko said. “I just passed along information I received from an anonymous source who—”

  “Bullshit. I know you …” Mei trailed off as she saw the bartender approach.

  Kameko noticed him too and smiled at the interruption.

  “Why, hello there, who is this pretty young thing?” Frenchy asked, Frenchly.

  “This is Mei. She’s
a cop.”

  Frenchy looked her up and down like an appraiser. “Nope, don’t see it. But I could see you pulling off a schoolgirl look, maybe. Or perhaps a sexy nurse. Had a girl in last night working the Kabukicho circuit who said she’s cleaning up with a hot librarian act where she—”

  “I’m a cop, asshole,” Mei said.

  “Okay, if you’re stuck on that, who am I to judge?”

  “No, like a cop cop,” Kameko said. “Mei here is murder police.”

  Frenchy’s expression turned on a dime, and he was suddenly deferential. “Oh, I see. And is there anything I can get for you, Officer?”

  “A beer.”

  “Right away.”

  Kameko shook her empty glass at him as he hurried away.

  “I was saying—”

  “Small talk,” Kameko chided. “He’ll be back in a minute.”

  “Right. So is this place a big hangout for people from your crew?”

  “Yeah, Frenchy’s is pretty popular among a certain element.”

  Mei nodded. “I’ll have to make a note of that for later.”

  Frenchy served their drinks, then hurried off again.

  “So the body was a dead end?”

  “Couldn’t get an ID off it from fingerprints. DNA analysis will take several weeks, even fast-tracking it. What did this imaginary informant of yours tell you about this guy? What’s the connection?”

  “Just that there had been a shootout involving the serial killers. So I turned it over to you.”

  “Alright. What did you want to show me?”

  “Okay, check this out,” Kameko said. “I’ve been following up on my hunch about the livers. I’ve been reading up on this, and it turns out your medical examiner is wrong about how long a liver removal takes. With the so-called ‘rapid’ technique for orthotopic liver transplantation, the liver can be removed in as little as twenty minutes by a skilled surgeon.”

  “This shit again?” Mei said. “Frankly, I think your immorality is showing through. Not everyone would be able to look at a mutilated corpse and think about how to turn a profit.”

  “But yakuza would. Some of them, I mean.”

  Mei shook her head. “As much as I want to believe the worst about you guys, it still doesn’t add up. Even if the organ removal window works, you’ve still only got a few hours before organ death. Hardly enough time to turn around and find someone willing to buy a liver off you.”

  “Ah, see, that’s what I thought too. But with recent advances in cryostasis, certain organs can be preserved for hours or even days outside the body.”

  Mei considered this. “If that’s true … then where would be the most likely place for them to fence the organs?”

  “I think I might know where they’re going. Some of them, at any rate.”

  “Where?”

  Kameko paused. “Look, I’m taking a chance here. Because what I’m about to tell you could get me killed.”

  “What is it? You going to dish on your employer?”

  Until recently, the thought would have thrilled Mei. Now, in light of recent events, she wasn’t so sure how she would feel about it. Vasili was the only one standing between her father and a downward spiral into cancer.

  “No, not Vasili. But this guy’s also connected.” Kameko looked uneasy. “And talking about anyone from the syndicate with the police is an instant death sentence.”

  “Who is it?”

  “His name’s Akiyama. I don’t know his first name. He controls interests mainly in and around Chiyoda Ward. Until recently he was dying of liver failure, but Vasili said that he seems to have made a complete recovery.”

  “He could have received a liver transplant normally.”

  “He didn’t. I checked. He hasn’t been to see his physician for months. Now he’s made a complete recovery? Bullshit.”

  “Wait, how did you know he hasn’t seen his doctor?”

  “I have my ways. Point is, I think he received one of the livers our ‘serial killer’ removed. They’re trying to make it look like random mutilation to cover their tracks. But meanwhile, they’re taking out organs that they can use themselves, or that fetch a good price on the black market.”

  “You assume.”

  “I assume. But for some of these guys, organ trafficking isn’t too much of a stretch.”

  “Yeah, what great company you keep.”

  “Hey, I have my limits. If Vasili asked me to do something like this, I’d refuse.”

  “Great to know we found your limit,” Mei said. She sipped her beer as she considered this. “Why keep taking the livers, though? I mean, if they just needed the one for Akiyama, why continue?”

  “I’m guessing they don’t just need the one. See these sweet tats we all have?” As she said this, Kameko pulled back the sleeve of her overcoat to reveal a colorful mural covering the flesh of her forearm. “Turns out they’re super bad for your liver.”

  “How so?”

  “For one, the tattooing process leads to high rates of hepatitis, which leads to liver damage. Plus, full-body tattoos cover a lot of sweat glands, which makes it hard to sweat out toxins from all the boozing we do.”

  “But on the plus side, it’s worth it for those sweet pictures of koi and dragons and shit.”

  “Yeah, I think so too!” If Kameko had picked up on Mei’s sarcasm, she had elected not to show it. “That, combined with environmental factors—i.e., the shit air we all breathe—and you end up with a high incidence of liver failure. Now, Japan already has some of the lowest organ transplant rates in the world—”

  “And what organs are available for transplant aren’t earmarked for yakuza scum,” Mei said, nodding along.

  “Exactly!” Kameko said with a jab of her pointer finger. “Only I would have phrased it slightly differently.”

  Something occurred to Mei then as she recalled the superintendent at Matsuo’s construction site. She pulled out her notebook and flipped back to her notes from that day.

  “Just out of curiosity, have you heard of Cyclosporine before? Or Prednisone?”

  “Immunosuppressants. Why?”

  “What are those?”

  “Like what you would take if you had just had an organ transplant. They keep the body from rejecting the new organ.”

  “Holy shit,” Mei said, leaning back. “The superintendent at HM Kensetsu was taking them. Said he’d just been off on medical leave.”

  Kameko’s eyes went wide. “Big fat guy named Obinata?”

  “Don’t know his name, but yeah. He fits the description.”

  “He’s tight with his boss, Matsuo. They go back, from what I hear.”

  “Has he had liver problems lately?”

  “I don’t know him that well. But if he’s taking those drugs right after an extended absence from work, I’m willing to bet you’ll find a scar on that fat stomach of his.”

  “Alright, sounds like we’re onto something here. I guess the next step would be to see who’s capable of performing liver transplants in the Tokyo area.”

  “I can’t imagine it’s a long list.”

  Mei smiled. “Alright, I feel like we might finally be getting somewhere with this case.”

  “Yeah. And it’s about damn time, too.”

  Chapter Ten

  Despite being told by Eriko to help Vasili secure replacement materials, Matsuo had failed to live up to his end of the deal. Once Vasili had shipped in replacements from the mainland (at an exorbitant fee), Matsuo called to say he had found some for him. If he still needed them, that was. Oh, and you’re welcome.

  Vasili was furious, but decided to swallow his rage. He had other, more pressing matters to attend to now. So when Matsuo called him and asked for a sit-down, Vasili wanted nothing more than to tell him to go fuck himself. Unfortunately, his construction interests still needed to operate out of Chiba, and bad blood between him and Matsuo could make that difficult. So he agreed.

  Now he sighed as he signaled to the barman for anoth
er vodka on the rocks. His third in the hour he’d been waiting for Matsuo to show up to the restaurant. That he himself had chosen for the meeting spot. Out in Chiba. Like a dick.

  Vasili turned to Jun and shook his head. “He’s fucking with me. He’s fucking with me, and I don’t like it.”

  “You want to go?”

  “After this drink.”

  When Vasili finished his drink, they stood to leave. They turned around to see Matsuo and his men sweeping into the room. Matsuo approached with open arms.

  “Vasili! So sorry to keep you waiting!”

  “No, you’re not.”

  “Traffic is terrible this time of night. Couldn’t be helped.”

  “I have other places to be.”

  “No problem. I prefer to make this quick myself.”

  They sat and ordered. They would have dispensed with the pleasantries, but they had already dispensed with those years ago.

  “Let me get right down to it,” Matsuo said. “The cost of land out here is skyrocketing. Every construction crew that isn’t here already wants to be, and they’re willing to pay a premium. So the cost of doing business has to go up.”

  “You’re bumping my monthly fee?” Vasili asked.

  “More like doubling it,” Matsuo said. “It’s an accurate reflection of what I could be earning from another crew in your space. It’s fair.”

  “Doesn’t seem like it,” Vasili said. “Especially after you failed to live up to the agreement from our latest sit-down.”

  “I found you the materials. You told me you didn’t need them.”

  “At that point I didn’t.” Vasili closed his eyes and thought. “So is now ten million yen a month. Is that what you’re shaking me down for?”

  “It’s not a shakedown, Vasili. Just the cost of doing business.”

  “Sure doesn’t feel like it.”

  “Of course, if you’re having cash-flow problems right now, maybe I can help.”

  Vasili raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything.

  “I could offer to purchase your construction interests outright. The cement plant and the two construction contractors.”

  So saying, Matsuo pulled out a piece of paper and slid it across the table. Vasili looked at it. He almost had to laugh at the brazenness of it.