Tokyo Noir: The Complete First Season

by J. Scott Matthews

  Niwa Apartments Room 803, 6-chome Yayoicho, Hiroshima

  His heart began pounding in his chest. He knew that address.

  It was his sister’s place.

  Masa was planning to go after Akari.

  With fumbling hands, he removed his phone again and opened up the map with the tracker’s location.

  It was moving.

  But not north. Masa was going west. Towards Hiroshima. Towards his sister.

  His pulse pounding in his head, Satoshi took off sprinting towards the exit.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “Hey, boss!”

  Soseki looked up from the newspaper he was reading as Nitta, his right-hand man, burst in.

  “What the fuck have I told you—”

  “I know! Sorry! You’re going to want to see this!”

  Soseki sighed as he threw the paper onto the desk and followed the man out into the main office. Several of his lieutenants were clustered around the large television against one wall, with many of their underlings scattered around. He walked right up to the front and center. Then he spent the rest of the afternoon glued to the television.

  The first images showed smoke and flames pouring out of the giant AJX Building in the Azabu Juban area. Then there were scenes of Vasili being wheeled out. A reporter spoke over the images of carnage.

  “A fire broke out in Club Hyperion at the top of the AJX Building, leaving at least ten people dead and one man critically wounded. The fire occurred during what appears to have been a confrontation between rival gangsters in an apparent internal dispute. Among the dead is Chobei Mihashi, a high-ranking boss in the Kaisha organized crime syndicate.”

  “Couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy,” Soseki quipped.

  “Vasili Loginovski, aka The Rock, a reputed boss in the Kaisha organization, was critically wounded. He suffered multiple gunshot wounds to the chest and abdomen. He has been taken to a nearby trauma center in critical condition, his prognosis unclear at this time.”

  Soseki whistled in disbelief.

  “The crazy shit went after The Rock. Unbelievable.”

  “Yeah, and he paid for it too,” Genji, his left-hand man, said. “Looks like Vasili did us a favor.”

  “And may do us another favor by dying!” another man jeered.

  “Quiet!” Soseki said.

  The news report was still on the same story, but had switched to a different reporter in another location.

  “… where earlier today, Eriko Mihashi, the reported shacho and leader of the Kaisha organization, was found dead by a subordinate. She appears to have asphyxiated on an as-yet-unknown toxic substance. Her death has been deemed suspicious, as homicide has not been ruled out. It is unknown at this time what, if any, connection it bears to the shootout involving her son from earlier today.”

  At the news, Soseki furiously clawed his phone out of his pocket and began dialing Taira back in Nagoya.

  “Boss? Turn on the news. The Kaisha just lost its leader … That’s right, Eriko’s dead … Okay, I’ll be here.”

  He hung up and stood there watching the coverage. Nitta glanced over at him, smiling.

  “Talk about luck! That dumbass just blew a hole in his own ship!”

  “Nitta, you remember before when you asked me why we didn’t just kill Chobei when we had the chance?”

  Nitta nodded.

  “Well, this is why. It was a gamble, but he seemed stupid enough to do some real damage with his friendly fire.”

  His men smiled.

  “Well, with Chobei gone, we can take over Kanagawa,” Nitta said. “None of this sneaking around shit.”

  “Fuck Kanagawa,” Soseki said, his eyes trained on the scenes of carnage onscreen. “With their shacho gone and one of their top bosses on death’s door, we can take the whole damn city.”

  “All of Tokyo? You don’t think that’s a bit premature?” someone asked.

  He shook his head. “When opportunity presents itself, you fucking grab it.”

  “What do you think happened?” Genji asked. “Vasili kills Eriko, so Chobei kills him?”

  Soseki grunted. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Chobei killed them both. The boy was a smoking powder keg. Wouldn’t listen to reason.”

  “Still, his own mother.”

  “I’d believe it before I believe that Vasili turned on his own people.”

  Soseki’s phone rang again, his boss Taira calling back. He grunted a few responses into the phone, then hung up.

  “Get ready, we’re taking the next bullet train to Nagoya. They’re calling a council meeting to discuss these new developments.”

  Soseki smiled as he watched the carnage on the screen. The council would discuss the Taira-kai’s next moves in Tokyo. But to Soseki, this would be just a formality, as he was bound to receive to go-ahead. They couldn't pass up on an opportunity like this. He was already mentally laying his plans to move into Tokyo in force.

  Failing to do so would just be leaving money on the table.

  Ozaki was behind on his unpacking. He and some of the other members of the Dark Army’s inner circle were supposed to be moving into their new headquarters on the ninth and tenth floors of a building on the outskirts of Ginza.

  But instead, they had been glued to the television most of the afternoon, just like half the city. They had just finished watching Ueda’s press conference on the Shibuya Killer case and were now watching the live coverage from the Club Hyperion aftermath. Including the fallout from the death of Eriko Mihashi.

  “Fantastic stuff,” Maki said, staring at the screen.

  “Absolutely,” Ozaki agreed. “Couldn’t have done it better ourselves.”

  “I’m going to have a fucking field day with this,” Maki said. “Oh, I’m going to relish this!”

  “Language,” Ozaki admonished, still smiling.

  Maki had come onboard recently as their chief press liaison. What he lacked in martial knowledge, he more than made up for with his shrewd ability to shape public opinion. He had been tapped to help mold public perception of the Dark Army. Ozaki respected his ability to massage the narrative surrounding the organization but didn’t doubt for a second that Maki’s skills were theirs only because it gave him a chance to boost his own visibility in the media as the public face of the movement.

  The story cut over to the day’s arrest in Kabukicho, showing footage from the aftermath of the standoff.

  “This is … less good,” Nakatoni said from the chair he was seated in.

  Nakatoni had been an early backer of the Dark Army. The heir to a successful industrial conglomerate centered around defense and weapons systems, he had been instrumental in bankrolling the fledgling organization in its early days. As a former member of the Japan Self-Defense Forces, he had served together with Ozaki. The two shared an ideological and political outlook that was extremely conservative and right of center. This included the belief that Japan’s largely diminished role in global affairs was an anachronism that had outlived its time.

  “Yeah, they could have killed that fucking detective while they were at it,” Yano said.

  Ozaki shot a glance at his underling. Yano mouthed “Sorry” and hung his head in the appropriate display of contrition.

  “I think he means that it’s a win for the police, which doesn’t necessarily help our message that they are incompetent and can’t do anything right.”

  Nakatoni nodded. “Right as always, Maki.”

  “We’ll have to be careful in how we approach this,” Maki mused. “We want to praise the police, seeing as how we’re ostensibly on the same side. But we need to find some subtle way to undercut the accomplishment.”

  “I’ll leave that to you,” Ozaki said. “But for now—”

  He was cut off by his personal assistant buzzing in on the intercom.

  “Sir? Deputy Commissioner General Ueda is here to see you.”

  The three men exchanged a glance. Maki rolled his eyes. Ozaki just sighed and shook his head.
>
  “Send him in.”

  Ueda strolled into the room, his chest puffed out like a peacock and a self-satisfied grin on his face.

  “You’ve seen the news, I take it?” he asked.

  “Yes, excellent work,” Ozaki said. “Didn’t know your people had it in them.”

  “Well, anything’s possible, with strong leadership. I must say, I like your new digs. How did you end up with such prime real estate? These two floors must cost a fortune.”

  “Not at all, they aren’t costing us a thing. They were a generous donation from Nakatoni here.”

  Nakatoni waved the suggestion away. “Actually, they were a generous donation from the previous company, who just so happened to be heavily indebted to one of my holdings. It was no problem at all to transfer the lease to our allies in the Dark Army.”

  Ueda nodded at that, looking impressed.

  “I must say, I’m a bit surprised to see you here so soon,” Ozaki said. “Considering that your press conference only wrapped up a little while ago.”

  “Well, I wanted to come right over and begin planning for the future. Now that we’re brothers-in-arms, I think we should coordinate on tactics. Develop a common strategy.”

  Ozaki raised an eyebrow. Oh really? It’s not because my contacts and I hold your political life in our hands? he thought to himself.

  “Well, we certainly appreciate the visit, Ueda. But now’s not a good time. We’re still unpacking and have—”

  “I see your table and chairs here are already unpacked,” Ueda said. “And I do believe that I outrank you. Technically, that is. So perhaps just a short briefing on your recent activities?”

  Ozaki’s eyes widened. He looked at Maki and Nakatoni in turn, both of whom were trying to conceal bemused expressions. He walked over to his desk and picked up a thick printout of papers, which he leafed through for a few moments.

  “Well, Ueda, let’s just read the relevant section of the Private Civil Order Defense Forces Act, shall we? It says—”

  “The what?” Ueda asked.

  “The Act for the Establishment, Promotion, etc. of Private Civil Order Defense Forces for the Protection, etc. of Japanese Society from Anti-Social Forces, etc.,” Ozaki said without missing a beat. “The media is calling it the Private Civil Police Defense Act for short, since Japanese legislators can’t even be succinct in titling their laws, apparently.”

  Maki tittered to himself, with one hand held over his mouth. Ozaki smiled slightly, then continued.

  “Anyway, I have the relevant passage here, which states, and I quote, ‘Private civil order defense forces established pursuant to the provisions of Article 77, Paragraphs 3-7 must hold council meetings, on a regular basis and with their frequency and dates held to be determined by both parties, with their relevant NPA counterparts, as defined in Article 123, Paragraphs 1-12, for the purposes of sharing information, developing a coordinated strategy, etc. In all other respects, said defense forces shall maintain their autonomy to enforce the civil order through measures that include but are not limited to … yada yada yada.’ And it goes on from there.”

  He looked up.

  “So you see, the council meetings for coordinating activities must be agreed to by both parties. We have not agreed to any such meeting taking place today. So, no, you do not ‘outrank’ me and cannot unilaterally declare that a council meeting be held ad hoc. Laws exist for a reason, after all.”

  “I didn’t mean to give offense,” Ueda began to bluster. “Just that, perhaps it would be a good idea to … uh, discuss our—”

  Ozaki silenced him with a gesture. “And it will be, at a more opportune time for us. Perhaps once we’ve finished setting up our offices here. Yes?”

  Ueda looked like he had been slapped, but he nodded his agreement.

  “Excellent!”

  With that, Ozaki showed him out with a patronizing smile that curdled the moment Ueda was out the door.

  “That man’s an idiot,” Nakatoni said when Ueda was gone.

  “No, that man’s a useful idiot,” Ozaki said. He clapped his hands. “Well, then, gentlemen, shall we begin the meeting?”

  The four men gathered around the conference table. Ozaki spoke first.

  “Well, I’m sure we’ll have much to discuss regarding the day’s events. But let’s handle the scheduled agenda items first. Yano, if you would.”

  Yano nodded, and consulted his notebook.

  “Well, to start with, I have one last-minute addition to the agenda. It seems that our man in Havana, so to speak, has been … compromised.”

  “Who?” Nakatoni asked.

  “I mean our operative in Guangzhou. He hasn’t been in contact for some time, which can only mean one thing.”

  Ozaki shrugged. “What about him? He got caught. That wasn’t part of the plan.”

  “His family will be expecting his remains at least. Do you have a plan for having them repatriated?”

  Ozaki shook his head. “We don’t have time for such niceties. He played his part, and played it well. To a point. His family can take comfort in that.”

  “Will they ever know?”

  Ozaki brushed it aside. “Look, there are other matters to attend to now. Let’s move on.”

  Yano didn’t look entirely convinced, but he dropped the matter. “Alright. Next up is our strategy for the ‘council meetings’ with the NPA.”

  Ozaki smiled. “Well, I think that’s fairly obvious. Keep them in the dark as much as possible.”

  “Agreed,” Nakatoni said. “The less they know the better. But we have to go further than that. I want to turn critical scrutiny onto the police themselves.”

  “How so?” Yano asked.

  “I think we need to hammer them on corruption,” Nakatoni said. “Raise the question in the public’s mind, and keep them busy with inquests and internal investigations to root it out. What do you think, Maki?”

  He nodded. “Certainly doable. I don’t think it should come directly from us. That would look suspicious. But I can try to create a groundswell of support online. Maybe leak some damning information on police corruption to some of my sources. Of course, it would help to have some inciting incident, as it were, to help discredit them. Maybe something like what we discussed—”

  Ozaki silenced him with a curt wave of his hand.

  “We’ll discuss that later. I have every reason to believe that Detective Kimura, the ‘heroine’ from today’s bust, is dirty. Perhaps we could leak something there, see if anything sticks.”

  “Worth a try,” Maki said. “But it might be better to wait until the fanfare has died down some. People like stories and narratives in their media. And right now she’s the good guy in today’s saga. But of course, today’s hero can just as easily be tomorrow’s villain.”

  Ozaki considered this, but soon nodded his agreement. “I’ll give you the information I have. Use it as you see fit.”

  “I still think a general corruption probe is warranted,” Nakatoni said. “Let’s move on that quicker.”

  “Agreed.”

  “Well, looks like that brings us to our next item,” Yano said. “Which is our finances.”

  “What about them?” Nakatoni asked haughtily. He looked offended. “I feel that I’ve been more than generous thus far in—”

  Ozaki held up his hands. “You have, to be sure. But that has raised …”

  “Other questions,” Maki said. “Some in the media are questioning our … somewhat opaque sources of wealth.”

  “I don’t understand,” Yano said.

  “They don’t like the fact that we seem to have unlimited money from unknown sources,” Ozaki said. “Some in the media are growing suspicious. Raising uncomfortable questions about our backers. And our motives.”

  “So what do you propose?” Nakatoni said.

  “I think it’s time we grew up, started earning our own way to some extent. We’ll still certainly need your generous contributions, if you don’t mind.”


  “Not at all.”

  “But perhaps we should be better about disguising the source. No offense.”

  “None at all.”

  “I also think we should look into some more … nontraditional sources of funding. Perhaps take a page from the yakuza playbook. Specifically, when it comes to sokaiya-style activities. Possibly other, less savory financial sources.”

  Nakatoni considered this. “Could be dangerous. If it were to come to light, it could damage our standing.”

  “We’ll be careful. Make sure that any ‘donors’ understand that discretion is of the utmost importance, and that their ‘contributions’ must come from clean, sanitized sources.”

  Maki smiled. He was clearly starting to warm to the idea. “It’s brilliant, really! We fill our coffers and expand our capabilities, while at the same time starving the syndicates of funds. Two birds, one stone.”

  “Exactly,” Ozaki said.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Masa stood up and stretched. It felt good to be off the bike for a few minutes. He filled it with gas, then parked it in front of the roadside rest station.

  He looked up and smiled. He could actually see the stars out here. Only two hours from Tokyo, but already the skies were much clearer. He was about to head inside when he felt his phone ringing.

  “Hey, Osammy, I was just—”

  “Have you left the city yet?”

  “Yeah, I left a few hours ago.”

  “Good, then you’re almost there?”

  “Well … actually I was going to make another stop first. Then I’ll loop back towards Fukushima.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “I was going to pay Satoshi’s sister a visit. Show him that fucking with me has a cost.”

  “He’s not dead yet? He was practically gift-wrapped for you.”

  “I decided to do things a bit differently.”

  Masa then proceeded to fill him in on everything that had happened.

  “Damn,” Osammy said. “That’s cold-blooded.”

  “He had it coming.”

  “No argument here. But I need you to forget that shit for now. I need you to do the job in Fukushima first.”