There had been two more deaths. Tatsu and Nakano had been to two more apartments to view the bodies of Funabashi gang members with sword wounds, and tensions were rising on the streets. These men had not been leaders, but they had been what the Russians called ‘vor.’ The word meant thief and yet was considered a compliment. It was roughly the equivalent of a ‘made man’ in the Italian mafia, an official member of the gang rather than someone trying to attain that exalted state. If whoever was behind the murders was hitting the lower ranks now, it was reasoned, anyone could be next.
Nakano, of course, had it easy. His superiors were basically pressing him to dump the entire case onto Tatsu since it was clearly a Chiba problem. He was resisting, and Tatsu was not entirely sure why. He continued to turn up to each scene, he reviewed the case file periodically and added his notes, and it seemed like he did not want to leave Tatsu in the lurch.
He did leave much of the detective work to Tatsu, which was why she was going over forensics reports when her door buzzer sounded. Beside the door was a little panel with a screen on it which allowed you to see and talk to whoever was outside. Tatsu ignored that and pulled up the video feed in-vision. A man in a boring, brown delivery uniform from one of the big logistics companies. He had a box of some sort in his arms. ‘Yes?’ she asked.
‘I have a delivery for Tatsu Yamada. I need a seal for it.’
Who was delivering things to her at three p.m. on a Friday? Tatsu picked up her pistol and headed for the door, opening it by remote as she did so. It said something about the relatively jaded nature of your typical Tokyo citizen that the guy did not even blink at the sight of an attractive woman wearing nothing much more than a translucent swimsuit walking toward him with a gun in her hand. ‘Who’s it from?’ Tatsu asked.
‘Uh, sender’s name is… that can’t be right.’
Tatsu paused, raising an eyebrow. ‘I have never heard of that company or person.’
‘Huh. Sender’s name is Izanami. It can’t be the Izanami, right? But there’s no family name and… I mean, it can’t be her.’
‘Because you can’t imagine her sending something to someone in Chiba?’
‘I can’t imagine her sending anything to anyone using a parcel delivery service.’
Tatsu transmitted her ‘seal,’ her digital identity, to the delivery man. Back in the day, she would have been stamping a box with a hanko, a personal seal. The process was now entirely different, but a lot of people, often officials, still called the ID packets seals. ‘You would be amazed at what Izanami gets up to. That being said, I have no idea what she’s sent me. Maybe it’s cake.’
‘Your birthday or something?’
‘Not for two months.’ She took the box out of his arms. It was heavy and the ease with which the man had been carrying it suggested some cybernetics. ‘Thanks.’
‘Always our pleasure to see a satisfied customer,’ he replied, his tone suggesting a canned, company response. Then he added, ‘My wife’s never going to believe I delivered a parcel from Izanami.’
With the door closed again, Tatsu set the box down on her desk and stared at it.
‘Well, aren’t you going to open it?’ Izanami asked. She sounded a bit like a parent waiting for a child to open the best present at Christmas.
Without looking around, Tatsu asked the obvious question. ‘What is it?’
‘Open it and find out.’
Frowning, Tatsu opened the box. It was taped closed with some strong tape, but she had cyborg strength on her side. Within the cardboard box was a plastic box. An armoured plastic box with a digital lock. That was removed and the container discarded onto the floor. Then the open button was pressed and, on receipt of Tatsu’s ID, the case opened to reveal…
‘It’s a gun,’ Tatsu said.
‘It’s your new pistol, as requested. It’s a launch pistol.’ The AI sounded quite excited.
Tatsu was less so. ‘Launch as in rocket? It’s a rocket pistol.’
‘Launch pistol. It will fire homing or unguided projectiles propelled by a micro-turbine engine at approximately two thousand metres per second.’
‘That’s… actually pretty impressive, but they take time to accelerate, don’t they?’
Now Izanami sounded a little defensive. ‘They aren’t fully effective at close range.’
‘How close?’
‘About ten metres.’
‘Uh-huh, and most police actions take place at less than seven metres.’
‘Ah,’ Izanami said, readying her counterargument, ‘the full impact potential of a hypervelocity round is overkill under most circumstances.’
There were a number of magazines in the case with the pistol. Tatsu lifted one out and examined the round sitting at the top of it. ‘Pretty big. Fifteen millimetres? I guess that is going to put a big hole in someone at that speed. So, you think this will be effective at short ranges, if not as effective as a conventional firearm.’
‘I do, and you can also use a variety of payloads. The ones in that magazine are multi-role, smart explosively forged projectile warheads with multi-spectral homing heads. They are a little on the expensive side. For special occasions.’
Tatsu blinked, staring at the thick, fairly short rounds. ‘SEFOP? Those are for hitting the top armour of armoured vehicles. Or attacking over barriers. I know I said I needed something with more punch, but–’
‘You have solid, shot, high explosive, SEFOP, shaped-charge, and baton rounds. EMP and penetrative shock rounds. And two types of gas dispenser loaded with hot smoke and sleeping gas. The shaped-charge warheads have infrared homing, and I included a magazine of solid rounds with the same homing heads in case you need to work at extended range. The motor batteries burn out after about a second, but you’ll get to almost two kilometres on that.’
‘If I can see the target at that distance.’
‘You do have telescopic vision. I seem to recall you being trained on guided missiles.’
Tatsu sighed. ‘I was. Okay, I’ll download the appropriate fire-control software and try it out. Are you thinking of making these standard for cops?’
‘We’ll be starting a trial in Okayama next month. I’ve sent you a link to the software.’
‘Thanks.’ Tatsu took a breath and pushed down on her misgivings. ‘And thank you, Izanami, for your prompt response to my request.’
The avatar smiled, but she said, ‘I was created to serve.’ She really was a Japanese AI; there was no way she could accept a compliment without suggesting she was unworthy of it.
‘What are your projections regarding the situation with the gangs?’ Tatsu asked, rather than continuing to try to thank the AI properly.
Izanami’s smile vanished. ‘Frankly, they aren’t good. I think you should expect to see reprisal attacks against the other gangs tomorrow or the next day. This is likely to escalate. The first attack will probably be against the Shiratori-rengō.’
‘You think?’
‘The murder weapon is probably a sword. Swords are hardly an exclusively Japanese weapon, but the other gangs are likely to see it that way. Hence the deduction that the yakuza must have something to do with it.’
‘Shiratori’s not going to like that.’
‘No,’ Izanami said, ‘I am ninety-eight percent certain that she will not.’
11th August.
The violence began on Sunday. It took another death to trigger it. On Saturday night, Tatsu was out at a particularly nasty crime scene instead of meeting Sachiko at The Hole, which did nothing for her mood.
This time, the victim had been cut to ribbons before being beheaded. Twin slashes across the abdomen had spilled most of his intestines out onto his apartment’s carpet and the stench had been horrific. Nakano had turned up, taken one breath of air, and turned back around to be violently sick outside. Tatsu had the advantage of being able to deactivate her sense of smell at will, and she had used it without a qualm soon after walking in. The killer was, again, escalating the violence of their
attacks.
On Sunday, a Shiratori-rengō member had been beaten to death not far from his apartment in Fujiwara. On Monday, another had been killed, this time by shooting, and two members of the Shiroi gang, the other mafia organisation in Chiba, were murdered. Yesterday had claimed two more yakuza and five mafia, two of those from the Funabashi gang in retaliation. And today the count was up to six dead and it was only ten fifteen in the evening.
And that was when Tatsu’s door buzzer sounded. When Tatsu checked, it was Sachiko standing outside; she was preparing herself to make excuses when she noticed that her friend looked worried.
‘What’s up?’ Tatsu asked as soon as the door opened.
Sachiko stepped inside and let the door close before she spoke. ‘Could I ask you a favour?’
‘Depends on the favour.’
‘Okay, I guess that makes sense, but I think this is kind of a police matter, so…’
Tatsu frowned. ‘Ask, Sachiko.’
‘It’s Rosy. Uh, Rosalía Campo. She’s one of the other dancers at The Hole. She’s a friend.’
‘Close friend?’
Sachiko managed a grin. ‘Jealous?’
‘Of course not. I’m simply establishing the circumstances of the case.’
‘Well, it’s not a case yet, and I haven’t been that close to Rosy in a couple of years. She started using rapture…’
‘And you keep yourself clean. Right. So, what’s up with Rosy?’
Sachiko perched on the edge of Tatsu’s bed. ‘Okay, so the management don’t like people using rapture, or anything else, but so long as it doesn’t interfere with your work… Yesterday, Rosy was in but looking depressed, edgy, sickly. Today she was a no-show. And that’s not like her. She used, but she always had it under control.’
Tatsu considered for a second or two. ‘Rapture’s only addictive in the psychological sense. It makes you feel good, takes you out of reality for a while, and you want more of that feeling. But it’s usually controllable so long as you can get a hit every day. Most users can function, though a lot of them end up destitute and broken.’
‘Rosy’s always managed. She’s never missed a day at work. If she does, she knows she probably won’t be able to afford her next hit.’
Tatsu sighed. ‘You want me to check on her?’
‘Yes. She’s not answering my calls.’
‘Well, I need to crash. I’ve been up for thirty-eight hours already. If I haven’t got another call to go see a body, I’ll go around to her apartment in the morning. That okay with you?’
‘That’s fine. Thanks, Tatsu.’ Sachiko got to her feet and, instead of heading for the door, pulled the cropped T-shirt she was wearing over her head.
‘Well, if a habitual user is having problems, it could be a new variety of rapture. Or she could have got ill, which would be a public health issue. Someone should check. And what are you doing?’
‘Undressing. I’d have thought that was obvious.’
‘Yes, but–’
‘We’ll fuck, we’ll sleep like babies, and then I’ll go with you to Rosy’s place in the morning. No arguments.’
Tatsu rolled her eyes. ‘Yes, ma’am.’
12th August.
Rosalía Campo lived in an apartment block more or less identical to the ones Tatsu and Sachiko lived in. It was two blocks from The Hole, closer than Sachiko’s place, but otherwise it might have been either of their two buildings magically repositioned.
Tatsu used her police ID to get them into the building, and then they walked up to the fifth floor to find the apartment. A panel beside the door showed Campo’s name in both Latin script and katakana. There was a button to call the occupant and a button to leave a message. Both had a ‘do not disturb’ indicator showing. Tatsu waved Sachiko forward. Sachiko did the only thing left: she yelled through the door.
‘Rosy? It’s Sachiko. You okay? We were all worried when you didn’t show yesterday. Come on, Rosy, let me in.’
Silence.
‘Rosy?’
More silence. Tatsu gave a sigh and transmitted a police unlock code to the door. At first it seemed that Campo was not home, but Tatsu’s eyes saw in more frequencies than the typical human. There was a heat source in the shower cubicle.
Rosalía Campo was huddled up on the floor, her knees tucked up under her chin and her arms wrapped around her shins. She had long, rich black hair which was wet and obscuring much of her face, tanned skin, and dark eyes. Of course, she was attractive. Normally. Now she looked like she had barely slept in two days and there was pain written on her face. Her first words indicated why.
‘Do you have any? I need it. I need… Do you have any?’ She was speaking English to two Japanese women – not a good sign. She was clearly from a Hispanic family, so maybe it was a blessing that she was not speaking Spanish.
Sachiko crouched down in front of her friend. ‘What happened to you, Rosy? You’re not normally this bad.’
Tatsu tapped Campo’s ID and got back the usual data with added police record. She had been written up for illegal prostitution twice before turning eighteen. There was a drunk and disorderly incident. No drugs convictions, but that was not entirely surprising. MedStat was showing yellow and lime, but there were limits to what MedStat could do. The more comprehensive Kannon operating system was capable of diagnosing more problems, including things like drug addictions, but it was a fairly invasive piece of software and not compulsory. Kannon would report crimes seen or committed by its users, so habitual drug users were among a number of types of people who refused to use it for obvious reasons. The lime mental indicator would probably have been orange if Kannon had been running on Campo’s implant. Lime could just mean that Campo was not using Kannon. The yellow physical one was more interesting, being triggered by a few physical conditions, though it was likely that the woman was just exhausted.
‘I need it,’ Campo said. ‘Sachiko? Sachiko, I’ve got to get a hit. It hurts. It’s never hurt before.’
Tatsu’s eyes narrowed. ‘Rosy? I’m Tatsu. I’m a friend of Sachiko’s. When was your last hit, Rosy?’
‘Saturday? Sunday? Think it was Sunday.’
‘And did you get some new stuff? Maybe looked a little different, smelled a little different. New supplier, maybe?’
‘No. Nothing different. No new supplier. You sound like a cop.’
Tatsu ignored the implied question, though she gave an implied answer. ‘Rosy, it sounds like you’ve taken a new brand of rapture. Your body is craving it, not just your mind. That’s why it hurts when you don’t have it. Whoever is selling this stuff needs to stop.’
‘Listen to her, Rosy,’ Sachiko added. ‘Someone’s hurt you. Tatsu will make sure no one else gets hurt.’
‘I can’t–’
‘You have to, Rosy.’
‘D-don’t know where I got the bad stuff. All seemed the same, but the high lasted longer and when I came down… When I came down, it was like everything was worse. It only got better when I took more.’
‘I’m going to need your suppliers’ names,’ Tatsu said. ‘All of them.’
‘I can’t–’
‘Basically, they poisoned you, Rosy. They sold you something with worse side effects. Look at you. You’re hurting and hungry. You’re a complete mess because they sold you something to make you more addicted and get them more profit. This needs to stop.’
Rosy hid her face, but after a few seconds, she said, ‘Walt Bonham. He’s with the Five Chome Yankees. Then there’s…’
~~~
‘What’s going to happen to her?’ Sachiko asked as they watched Campo being driven away in an ambulance.
‘She’ll be checked out at the hospital,’ Tatsu replied, ‘and they’ll get me a report on her condition. Then I’ll get her sent to a rehab centre.’
Sachiko’s eyes widened. ‘Rosy can’t afford–’
Tatsu held up a hand. ‘It’s a place I know outside the city run by Buddhists. It’s free. They’ll talk her ears off a
bout enlightenment and a better way to live, but they won’t charge her a yen. And they’re good. She’s probably going to need good.’
‘It’s just about impossible to get off rapture. If this stuff has a physical aspect to the addiction…’
‘Yeah, it might even kill her if she has to go cold turkey. Normally they’d use FSR to supply a controlled comedown, but she’ll probably need medical attention and drugs. It’s not going to be an easy ride.’
‘Are you going to find out who’s supplying this stuff?’
‘I am. And then I’m going to make them stop.’
‘Right.’ Pause. ‘Punch them in the face for me too, would you?’
~~~
Walter Bonham, generally known as Walt, was not that hard to track down. He was a wiry sort of man with long legs and a constantly nervous look about him. He tended to glance around constantly, making him look guilty. On the other hand, he usually was guilty of something, and his constant attention to his surroundings meant that he spotted Tatsu walking toward him. His eyes widened instantly, and he took off like a frightened rabbit within a second.
It was a stupid move for several reasons. Walt had been in a race with Tatsu before and knew she was faster than him. She suspected that he hoped to lose her in a maze of alleys behind the road she had found him on, which was a new tactic. He did have a head start and that might have made the difference, if Tatsu had been playing fair. Tatsu turned a corner, spotted Walt about eight metres ahead of her, raised her new pistol, and fired. There was a slight whine from the projectile as it left the barrel and rocketed toward its target, hitting him in the back. There it flattened, efficiently transferring its kinetic energy into Walt. He was tossed forward a good two metres but kept his footing, and he kept on running, if at a significantly lower speed.
‘What did you hit me with?’ he grumbled in English when Tatsu inevitably caught up with him.
‘Baton round,’ Tatsu replied. ‘You’re going to have a hell of a bruise. Still, at least I didn’t kill you and you’ll have plenty of time to recover in a cell.’
‘I haven’t done anything.’
‘Then why did you run away?’
‘I… panicked.’
Sign of the Dragon (Tatsu Yamada Book 1) Page 10