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Beneath Gray Skies

Page 37

by Hugh Ashton


  -o-

  On arrival at the vast sprawling complex of Tokyo station, home to any number of Japan Railways and subway lines, he wondered where to try first. The Yaesu side of the station was the busiest side of the station, so he decided to try his luck there first. Pushing his way through the crowds of middle-aged ladies, all of whom seemed to be determined to block his way by moving in front of him before stopping dead in their tracks and standing rooted to the spot, Sharpe entered the underground area near the Gin-no-Suzu meeting place, where many of the coin lockers were to be found. A look at one bank of coin lockers there showed that they were of a new electronic keyless type where his key would obviously be useless. The next bank had numbers which were completely wrong, and the key tags were the wrong colour. By the time he’d checked the tenth bank of coin lockers around the meeting area, he was beginning to get more than a little discouraged. He guessed that the lockers at platform level would be of the same type, but felt he had to check them, all the same. A trudge up the stairs confirmed this.

  His next stop was the other side of the station—the Marunouchi side. Remembering a factoid he had heard once, that more people use Tokyo station every day than live in New Zealand, he fought his way to the other side against the flow of human traffic with some difficulty, passing a couple of other banks of lockers in the underground passage, neither of which seemed to offer anything useful. Nothing there which looked promising. The coin lockers had keys, but one set had a completely different set of numbers, and the other set seemed to use a completely different shape and size of key to the one in his pocket.

  Time for the subway lines. He couldn’t find the coin lockers at the Marunouchi line for some time, as the area was under construction, but emerging from that area, he spotted a small isolated group of lockers opposite, in an area with relatively little traffic, and somewhat off the beaten track. He saw that the top row contained locker 7415, that there was no key in it, and his key fitted. He swung open the door to disclose a large bag with the name of an electronics retail chain on it, drew out the bag and peeked inside. His first thought was that Al Kowalski wasn’t going to be burgling any houses in the near future. His next was that he had to find a place to be sick very soon, preferably out of the way, where he would not draw any attention to himself and the locker with the bag and its ghastly contents.

  He stuffed the bag back where it had come from and re-locked the locker quickly, pushing in three 100-yen coins to do so, trusting that no-one had seen him. He walked fast, almost running, following the signs for the toilets and dashed inside.

  Thanking God that at least one cubicle was empty, his stomach heaved, and what seemed like the whole of last week’s meals erupted to fill the porcelain. Flushing the mess away, he wiped his chin with toilet paper, and staggered out to the basins where he splashed cold water over his face. He drew a few curious looks, but not that many—Japanese seem less shy about exhibiting the contents of their stomachs before the world than the British, but usually late at night. Mid-morning was a slightly unusual time for public vomiting.

  Time for a drink, he thought, looking around for a drinking fountain.

  As he bent over the water spout in the corner of the room, he felt a hand on his shoulder, and heard a vaguely familiar Australian voice. “You all right, mate? Strewth, you look like death warmed over.”

  Sharpe looked up. “What the bloody hell are you doing following me about?” he asked Jon, who had reverted to his Australian backpacker look.

  “Shut up, and let me get you a coffee. You look as though you could use one,” replied the other. “And what the bloody hell happened to your face?” looking at the scabs on his cheek.

  “You’re the one who should be shutting up,” replied Sharpe. It wasn’t the most witty bit of repartee going, but he didn’t care. “Now get out of my way and stay out of my life. OK?” He prodded Jon firmly in the chest with a pointing forefinger.

  “No way,” said Jon, pointing a finger back. “There’s no way I’m going to let you walk away from this without finding what’s going on. Tim Barclay’s going to have my balls for breakfast if I come back with no answers.”

  “Then I wish him bon appétit,” replied Sharpe. “Now, if you’ll excuse me—” His stomach gave a sudden unexpected lurch to port, and he dashed for the cubicle again. When he came out again, Jon was still standing there waiting.

  “Oh, for God’s sake, buy me a coffee or something,” snapped Sharpe. “I suppose you’re going to find out all about this sooner or later, so I might as well get a cup of coffee out of it.”

  “Good man,” said Jon. He made as if to take Sharpe’s elbow, but Sharpe shrugged him off.

  They found a Starbuck’s in the underground mall adjoining the station, under one of the new office blocks that were going up on the Marunouchi side. “We’ll sit near the door,” said Sharpe. “I need the air, even if it is underground. And mine’s a double espresso—no sugar. I’ll get the table, you get the coffee. Don’t worry, I’m not going to run away. I couldn’t if I wanted to.”

  He was telling the truth—he didn’t feel like running anywhere. Sitting down at the table, the memory of the bag in the locker came back to him, and he retched again, but there was nothing in his stomach to back it up.

  Jon arrived with the coffees.

  “Thanks,” said Sharpe, and winced as he took his first sip. Jon just sat, waiting.

  “Well, aren’t you going to ask me any questions?” asked Sharpe.

  “No, since you probably aren’t going to answer them. I’ll wait until you talk.” Jon sipped his iced latte in silence, and folded his arms behind his head. Neither man spoke for a few minutes.

  “Did you see Katsuyama’s body?” asked Sharpe, breaking the silence.

  “No, why the hell would I have done?” replied Jon. “All we knew was what we were told by Ishihara.”

  “Did he see the body?” asked Sharpe.

  “I suppose so. Why? What’s strange about it?”

  “I heard a rumour that it wasn’t Katsuyama’s body and that Katsuyama himself is still alive.”

  Jon put down his cup and stared at Sharpe. “I think you’re serious.”

  Discover other titles by Hugh Ashton on Smashwords:

  Keiko’s House (free)

  At the Sharpe End (thriller set in modern Japan)

  About the author

  Hugh Ashton was born in the UK in 1956. After graduating from the University of Cambridge, he worked in a variety of jobs, including security guard, publisher’s assistant, and running an independent record label, before coming to rest in the field of information technology, where he assisted perplexed users of computers and wrote explanations to guide them through the problems they encountered.

  A long-standing interest in Japan led him to emigrate to that country in 1988, where he has remained ever since; writing instruction manuals for a variety of consumer products, assisting with IT-related projects at banks and financial institutions, and researching and writing industry reports on the Japanese and Asian financial industries. Some of the knowledge he has gained in these fields forms the background for At the Sharpe End.

  Hugh currently lives with his wife Yoshiko in the old town of Kamakura to the south of Tokyo, where he is working on future novels and stories.

  Contents

  Reviews

  Preface to first edition

  Preface to second edition

  Acknowledgements

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Ch
apter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Extract from “At the Sharpe End”

  About the Author

  Table of Contents

  Prologue: “The Old Club House”, Washington DC, United States of America, March 1861

  Chapter 1: The disputed border between the United States of America and the Confederate States of America, South Kansas, 1923

  Chapter 2: Richmond, Virginia, Confederate States of America

  Chapter 3: The Cabinet Office, Downing Street, London, United Kingdom

  Chapter 4: Cordele, Georgia, Confederate States of America

  Chapter 5: Camp Early, near Wichita, Kansas, Confederate States of America

  Chapter 6: Whitehall, London, United Kingdom

  Chapter 7: Cordele, Georgia, Confederate States of America

  Chapter 8: Whitehall, London, United Kingdom

  Chapter 9: The CSS Robert E. Lee, somewhere in the North Atlantic

  Chapter 10: Bremen, Germany

  Chapter 11: Berlin, Germany

  Chapter 12: Richmond, Virginia, Confederate States of America

  Chapter 13: Whitehall, London, United Kingdom

  Chapter 14: Cordele, Georgia, Confederate States of America

  Chapter 15: The Willard Hotel, Washington DC, United States of America

  Chapter 16: The War Department, Washington DC, United States of America, a few days later

  Chapter 17: Near Cordele, Georgia, Confederate States of America; a few weeks after the last

  Chapter 18: The War Department, Washington DC, United States of America

  Chapter 19: Cordele, Georgia, Confederate States of America

  Chapter 20: Hermann Goering’s office, Office of Economic Planning, Berlin, National Socialist Germany

  Chapter 21: Richmond, Virginia, Confederate States of America

  Chapter 22: The War Department, Washington DC, United States of America

  Chapter 23: Whitehall, London, United Kingdom, ten days after the last

  Chapter 24: War Department, Washington DC, United States of America

  Chapter 25: Friedrichshafen, near the Bodensee, National Socialist Germany

  Chapter 26: The Willard Hotel, Washington DC, United States of America

  Chapter 27: Cordele, Georgia, Confederate States of America

  Chapter 28: Pergamon Museum, Berlin, National Socialist Germany

  Chapter 29: Washington DC, United States of America

  Chapter 30: Cordele, Georgia, Confederate States of America

  Chapter 31: Washington DC, United States of America

  Chapter 32: Whitehall, London, United Kingdom

  Chapter 33: Cordele Airship Station, Georgia, Confederate States of America

  Chapter 34: Washington DC, United States of America

  Chapter 35: Cordele Airship Station, Georgia, Confederate States of America

  Chapter 36: Friedrichshafen, National Socialist Germany

  Chapter 37: The War Department, Washington DC, United States of America

  Chapter 38: In the control car of Bismarck, about 2000 feet above the ground, some 90 minutes out of Cordele, Georgia, Confederate States of America

  Chapter 39: Cordele Airship Station, Georgia, Confederate States of America

  Chapter 40: Whitehall, London, United Kingdom

  Chapter 41: Cordele Airship Station, Georgia, Confederate States of America

  Chapter 42: On board Bismarck, 2000 feet over Georgia, Confederate States of America

  Chapter 43: On the ground, Cordele Airship Station, Georgia, Confederate States of America

  Chapter 44: Inside the control car of Bismarck, over Cordele Airship Station, Georgia, Confederate States of America

  Chapter 45: Richmond, Virginia, Confederate States of America

  Chapter 46: Cordele Airship Station, Georgia, Confederate States of America

  Chapter 47: Downing Street, London, United Kingdom

 

 

 


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