“And yet your product is now more widespread than ever, which indicates to me that you have finally decided to give away your formula, albeit in a very unstable form. Two deaths from overdoses last week...”
“What?” asked Roman, sitting up so quickly that his resting body screamed in pain. The barman raised an eyebrow.
“You didn't know?”
“How could I know?” asked Roman. “I've been... I was...”
He didn't know what to say. The seat seemed to be spinning away from under him, as he felt himself being dragged back towards the whirlpool of his former life. The barman watched him silently.
“Why are you telling me this? Who are you?” asked Roman, keeping his voice as low as possible, although the chef was making such a racket with his knife that it was unlikely they would be overheard.
“Introductions. Why not? My name is Nishikawa Seita. I’m a counter espionage agent employed by ParCorp, my general brief being to identify security leaks or risks and deal with them. You, my friend, have been responsible for a fair few of them, and have been very successful so far in evading me. It was lucky for me that you decided to return to your former residence, after vacating it so quickly last week after its location was discovered. By the way, the alias you used to rent it out, Mack Vellian? Very cute. A simple security camera managed to do what I could not, and gathered some concrete evidence of you holding the vials of Cupid.”
Roman hung his head. Even when trying to remove his blight on the world he had incriminated himself.
“So you’re here to kill me?” Roman set his jaw firm. Perhaps he had enough of his old reactions left to help him escape this situation but if the man had a gun trained on him under the table then it was as good as over.
Seita started to laugh, this time showing genuine humour in his eyes.
“I’m no assassin, simply an investigator. I wouldn’t have got this close if I had intended to kill you. No, I’m here because of the recent events. For months you had eluded us after your sudden departure from Tokyo, but I had been able to trace some of your activities to occasional results of your criminal deals. They took on a distinctly different tone around four weeks ago. Before the change of direction, every piece of your activity that we had managed to trace within Techosaka had been low level behavioural changes, fixing dissolving marriages or other domestic issues, presumably for your own financial gain for services rendered. There was the occasional foray into ParCorp's employee security with a Ms. Claudette Perrot-”
Claudette Perrot. Dark eyes, mousy hair, and an exceedingly high level clearance until her thefts of Mendel had been discovered and she had been thrown out of the company. Luckily for her they hadn’t gone so far as to press criminal charges as they had managed to identify through questioning and bio-scans that she’d been chemically coerced. They had tried to trap him using her as bait once they had spotted her activities, but he had noticed the observers on a nearby roof and had made a quick exit before their next scheduled meeting. He had slipped the antidote into her next ration of distilled water to ensure that she was released from her love, and free to feel the rage against him that he deserved for pulling her into his web.
“-but by and large your activities were only marginally damaging in their scope. After Yokohama though – a wonderful city, I must say, as I saw a lot of it after I lost you – things took a sinister turn for the worse back in Techosaka. I received reports of women and men losing their minds and becoming fixated on strangers they barely knew, feeling compelled to give their worldly possessions away to them. And, as I said before, there were the deaths... two women, staggering into the road embroiled in a blazing argument before being sent to their respective makers by a six wheeled recycling van. One man committed suicide out of the blue after writing a rambling letter about a female stranger who had broken his heart after 'one night of miracles'. Cupid was found in all of their systems. Of course, there may be more. These were simply the ones with ParCorp health insurance who were sent to our sponsored medical centres. Whether other corporations even know of its existence is unknown.”
Roman was reeling as he tried to make sense of what he was hearing.
“You should know, all such occurrences are still being officially attributed to the Black Cat.”
Roman scratched at his own eyes, as rage started to boil up inside him. “Someone has my formula?” I need to think. That's all I need to do. Use cold, hard logic.
The man opposite was still scrutinising him, his eyes narrowed. The waiter returned and set their coffees down before giving a small bow and moving off. Roman reached for his cup but his hand was shaking to such an extent that he thought better of it and instead placed his palms on the table.
“You say that they are attributed to the Black Cat, but you have nothing to link me to them except for a chemical. You can't place me at the scenes.”
“On the contrary,” said Seita, pulling out a small palm tablet and flicking through the images before showing the screen to Roman. It was a crystal clear video grabbed from some security footage dated a week before, showing Roman scrutinising himself in the window of a shop as he adjusted his tie. There was no mistaking his features.
“This can't be,” he whispered to himself, his eyes narrowing. “I know it can’t be.”
He had been drugged and imprisoned. There was no way that the man in the image was him, though the resemblance seemed uncanny. No need to panic. There has to be an explanation. Look for the threads, the lines of circumstance that could lead to such an occurrence. Then he saw it, a single detail that held the truth.
“Rubies,” he said quietly, his mouth twisting with disgust. He passed the tablet back to Seita and leaned back, finally feeling more confident of his own sanity. Seita looked at him inquisitively.
“Excuse me?”
“Rubies, in the teeth. He's had his face crafted. That's not me, that's a man named-”
“Luis Martinez-Leon,” they both finished together. Seita started nodding as he put the tablet back in his pocket.
“I know,” he continued. “I was watching Luis that night at the club as a way of trying to get to you, but then you turned up in person – a happy coincidence. He wasn't happy when you left.”
“He's managed to reverse engineer Cupid somehow,” said Roman, starting to forget that the man opposite was here to arrest him.
“Perhaps, but not alone. As you know, he's a thug. A dangerous one, yes, but still a thug. We've been keeping tabs on him for a while, though not for his own deeds as they don't directly affect ParCorp. We were watching him because of his reputed links to you and a shadow broker named Medea. I believe it is this unknown entity that has taken your formula and bastardised it, and Luis is simply acting your part, face and all.”
“You need me,” said Roman, starting to spot why the man had spoken to him instead of simply calling in back-up and getting him hauled away. “You need me to get to him, to them.”
Seita pursed his lips a little. “Unfortunately, that is the case. The Black Cat is now a name to be feared. Where you would sneak, Luis strikes. Such a violent and short sighted approach will surely lead to an arrest soon, but I am concerned about the damage that may be done in the meantime. Another death would be too many. I want him now.”
Roman leaned back, feeling the weight of the conversation shift in his favour. He had no love lost for Luis after how they had ended things but he needed to make sure that he was safeguarding his own future. “What are you offering?”
Seita curled his lips. “So it comes to bargaining. Is it not enough to know that you will be cleansing the name of the Black Cat?”
Roman found enough humour in the sentence to give a short laugh. “That would do me little good from inside the walls of a prison.”
Seita reached down and picked up his coffee, taking two long sips. He looked back at Roman. His eyes glinted.
“I'm authorised to offer you a sentence reduction. As you may or may not know, the crimes you have committed carry a total
of forty years. We will gladly half that.”
“Half? Generous...” said Roman, pretending to mull it over, but even before Seita had replied Roman had decided that he was going to play hard ball. He had nothing to lose, as he was going to jail either way. How much did Seita know of Luis' activities? Roman had to guess very little, otherwise he'd be watching him now instead of sitting in a diner at half seven in the morning. “I don't think so. Make me a better offer.”
“Can I remind you that I could simply take you in now, and you would get the full forty? No time off for good behaviour,” said Seita, leaning in with a furrowed brow. He was getting annoyed. Good, less focus.
“That's true,” said Roman, “but I can tell from the way you discussed the new Black Cat’s recent events that you don't want any of the instances to be repeated. I just wonder how much you want to stop them...”
Seita sat back again. “Still trying to be a businessman?”
“I'm a man with a sense of self preservation, the same as everyone else. I have an offer for you. Two for one. Medea and Luis... for me.”
“A complete pardon? I don't have the authority for that,” said Seita.
“Then talk to someone who can.”
Seita watched him for what must have been minutes, his long face drawn out in a scowl as he tapped his fingers on the table, before eventually reaching his hand out.
“Done.”
Roman shook his hand, before picking up his own coffee and taking a sip, though it was still too hot for his taste.
“As we've had such a charming conversation,” said Seita sarcastically, “I don't suppose you'd tell me your real name?”
Roman stood up, stretching his arms and shoulder languidly, his neck cracking as his body loosened up.
“The Black Cat. It's all the name I need.”
A reprieve. Someone up there must have liked him, or else someone down there. In truth he would have wanted to find a way to bring Luis down anyway if he'd found out about the identity theft, even if Seita hadn't offered the pardon. It was a gold lined bonus that would set him up for freedom, at least from the authorities. There would still be others baying for his blood, but after all that he had done it was the least that he could expect.
Seita had agreed to let him go about contacting Luis and Medea in his own way, so as not to tip them off early. Seita had insisted on a nano-tracker though, injected into Roman's bloodstream. It was self-replicating, embedding itself in his blood cells, and impossible to remove. It was certainly a nuisance, but he would worry about it later. At least as he walked down the busy shopping plaza of Techosaka, weaving between holographic advertising and raucous street vendors hawking knock down tech, he could almost believe he was free. Almost.
He needed somewhere new as a base of operations, somewhere safe where he could start tracing Luis and Medea without fear of running into anyone who knew them mutually. That ruled out most of down-town. He had scanned a map and had decided to try and find a cheap hotel on the east side, quiet enough so that he wouldn't be disturbed but with good access to amenities so he could make a move as soon as necessary.
He was browsing the info terminal for hotels at the corner of Nipponbashi, the 'Electric Town' where all of the major tech suppliers had set up shop, when he heard a gasp to his right. He glanced over and saw Aarati, her hand to her mouth in shock. He felt the cuts on his face itch as they were scrutinised, but he was more focussed on his heart which was thumping hard in his chest as the feelings from their encounter a month ago began flooding his system.
“What happened to you?” she asked quietly.
Roman turned off the terminal and walked towards her slowly, trying to formulate a plausible explanation in his head. He quickly decided on a half-truth. “I fell out of a window.”
She reached forward and touched his arm in concern, sending a shiver up his back as if he were on fire.
“I'm so sorry...”
“You didn't do it,” laughed Roman, before hastily adding a suffix to discourage questions. “I did.”
She reached forwards and slipped into his arms as she had done before, hugging him tightly. The pain of the rest of the cuts on his body was nothing compared to the pleasure of feeling her close to him again.
“I'm sorry I didn't call you,” she whispered into his ear. “It was too... strong.”
“I didn't call either,” replied Roman, feeling his eyes close. It was just an embrace but he wanted it to last forever. She eventually pulled away and looked up into his face, her features still concerned.
“Can we go somewhere? Can we talk?”
Roman looked back at the terminal, and down at the tiny pin prick in his wrist where Seita had injected him. Time was of the essence... but the essence of what? Time spent with Aarati seemed like a tonic and he needed something right now to take the edge off reality and slow everything down.
“We can go anywhere you want.”
A light rain had started to fall as they headed up the road towards Aarati's house, but it was still sticky with humidity so the raindrops carried a welcome chill. The time in the park had gone too fast. They had both talked, laughed and joked together, although it seemed to Roman that as time went on and he asked more questions about her past she became as reticent as he was (from necessity). It didn't matter though, Roman had always been more interested in the future than the past.
The shadow of Idalia had sat heavy on the back of his mind throughout his time with Aarati. He hadn't been able to get in contact with his wife since he had returned to their former home, as her phone number had been disconnected and she hadn't replied to any of his emails. It was not through love that he was trying to contact her but rather through a sense of duty. Truth be told he felt nothing for her anymore and would push for a divorce as soon as he could find her, if he could sort out the issue of Luis that is. He rubbed the depression on his ring finger where the marriage band had sat for the past three years, now lost somewhere in a dead woman's apartment. Until he had spoken to Idalia he still felt a need to be faithful.
Why, after every man she's been with, after every pointless argument? Just so I can take the moral high ground?
“Love. It's a fool's business,” he muttered to himself. Aarati stayed silent for a few seconds before reaching forward and slipping her hand into his. He felt the warmth of her palm and was amazed at how natural it felt, as if he had always known her.
“Have you ever been in love?” she asked quietly, gently slipping a strand of hair away from her face.
“Yes,” said Roman. “In different ways with different women. It's never the same.”
“No,” she replied, looking up the road towards the run of suburbia that stretched ahead of them. “The first time is always the strongest.”
Roman looked over at her, his heart momentarily breaking as he felt the burning desire to be the only man who had ever been in her life. He wasn't even particularly a part of it now. It was such a strange desire. Unless you had the amazing good fortune to meet someone who was perfect for you when you were young, virtually no one stayed with their first love. No one could forget it though.
A large family car drove past and skimmed through a puddle, sending a spray of water towards them. Aarati was far enough away to avoid it but Roman had to leap out of the way to avoid being drenched. Aarati looked at him strangely as they continued onwards.
“That was quite some jump. Do you practice athletics?” she asked. Roman flicked a bit of dust from his shoulder as he smiled.
“I just have some natural instincts. It's nothing special,” he said dismissively. Aarati didn't look convinced, so Roman decided to pursue another avenue of conversation. He didn't want any reminders of his previous life at the moment. If only he could get rid of the thought of Idalia.
Aarati's neighbourhood seemed to be extremely exclusive. Everywhere he looked there were gated properties, some with armed guards reminiscent of the Ozawa residence. He gave a little involuntary shudder, dropping his eyes down
to the yellow flagstones of the pavement, watching the rain spread across them in dark rivulets.
“Well, here we are,” said Aarati, stopping at a locked double gate that led to a modest two storey house set behind a compact paved area. “Are you… I mean, would you like to?”
She let the question hang in the air to drift away. He looked into her eyes and saw beauty, grace and love. She was so different to his own mottled soul. He turned away and looked back towards the town, its dark corners and light studded parapets, its sleaze and crime, its laughter and tears. It was as much a part of him as he was of it.
“Not yet. I have a few things to take care of,” he replied, trying hard to sound anything but crushed by the realisation that they couldn't be together, not yet. Aarati reached up and ran a finger gently across one of the cuts above his nose, tracing its pattern. It itched beneath her touch.
“Try to be careful.”
Chapter 6
He pulled his new phone out of his pocket after it buzzed for the second time, whilst simultaneously trying to cram the last of his sashimi into his mouth. It was a waste of the delicate texture but he was starving after the walk back into the city, and he had been glad for the exercise after his weeks trapped within that room with Sandrine. He still wondered if there was any way that he could have avoided it ending in such a tragic way. Was there a missed opportunity that he was too tired or drug addled to notice? The fall from the window had been a turning point, a release of the past and his past ways, burned away in the fires of torture as he faced up to what he really was and had no desire to be again.
There was only one number on the phone, so he knew who it would be.
“Seita, I hope you're having a wonderful evening,” said Roman, savouring every last bite of the yellow tail. It was good quality, so smooth as to be almost creamy in its texture, as if it were a rare steak. He looked out of the window at the twinkling gloom of the city. It wasn’t a bad hotel, given the price.
The Real Thing Page 9