[Thomas Caine #1] Tokyo Black (14 page)

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. And believe me, if anyone should be thanking anyone, it’s me. Look, you must realize, this life, people like me and your father, it’s not all fast cars and duty and honor and parties. Sometimes, too many times, we have to do things that … well, things that can haunt you. Things we would rather forget. But we can’t.”

“
Kurayami no haji wo akarumi ni mochidasu na,
” Kenji said.

“I’m afraid your English is a lot better than my Japanese.” Caine kept his eyes on the road as he weaved around some slower-moving traffic.

“It’s an old saying. It means you must keep the shameful things you’ve done in the dark. Not expose them to the light. Keep it buried, inside.”

Caine nodded. “I have a lot of secrets buried in the dark. But what I did that night … that’s something I don’t have to keep buried. It takes my mind off things when the darkness gets to be too much. And I’d gladly do it again, in a heartbeat.”

Kenji nodded. “Well, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Caine looked over and smiled. “You father really doesn’t know you’re here, does he?”

Kenji looked away. “No, he doesn’t. Just one more thing he doesn’t know about me.”

Kenji didn’t speak again, and they drove on through the night in silence.

By the time Caine and Kenji reached Ikebukuro, a light rain began to fall across the sprawling district. Caine slowed down, cautiously maneuvering the powerful sports car through the congested city streets. As the raindrops spattered on the pavement, the roads became sleek and reflective, like long ribbons of black satin.

They drove past the Ikebukuro station, the third largest train station in the world. Caine had to marvel at the size of the place. Buildings in Japan always seemed smaller in scale than their Western counterparts. But here, the buildings were massive. The Seibu and Tobu department stores, the towering Sunshine 60 entertainment complex … everything was bigger, larger than life. Their glowing lights reflected off the wet pavement, bathing the car in flashes of red, green, and purple neon as they passed. It was like driving through a galaxy of bright, colorful stars.

  As they circled around the station, Kenji provided brief, simple directions. Soon they reached the outskirts of the area where the lights were just as bright, but almost entirely red. They had entered Ikebukuro’s unofficial Chinatown, a small enclave that had sprung up north of the station. Signs for Chinese restaurants and businesses hung from balconies and beckoned from dark basements.

Kenji led them down a dark alleyway behind a small office building, just off the main street. Each floor of the building housed a different business. The signs were in Chinese, but the occasional English word—such as “Passport” or “Laundry”—was printed in bright yellow letters.

“This is the place,” Kenji said.

Caine slowed the car to a stop. They got out, and Caine followed Kenji down the alley and around to the main street.

The building they were parked behind was flanked by similar structures on the left and right. A street-side cafe filled the ground floor of the left building. It sat beneath a huge red sign, with blinking Chinese characters.

Koichi sat on a stool at the cafe, eating a bowl of dumplings. Caine recognized them as
xiaolongbao
, Chinese soup dumplings. Each delicate pouch of dough was filled with cooked pork and a delicious sweet broth.

Koichi looked up at Caine and Kenji. “What took you so long?” A trickle of broth dripped from his mouth, which he wiped away with a napkin.

Caine smiled and looked around the packed cafe. Several Chinese and Japanese patrons sat at the counter, all devouring the same pork dumplings. They ate at a rapid pace, scooping up the little pouches and sucking them into their mouths with loud slurping noises.

“The news keeps talking about tension between Japan and China,” Caine said. “But you both seem to have the same lousy table manners.”

Koichi stood up and tossed some yen on the counter. “What do I know about politics? I just like the dumplings.” He nodded at Kenji. “Here, you can finish.”

“But—” Kenji began, but Koichi gave him a stern look.

“If your father knew you were here with me, he would take another finger. That would make things very difficult in my line of work.”

Kenji sighed and sat down in front of the steaming bowl. “
Hai
. Have fun.”

Caine and Koichi walked through the misty rain towards the center building. Kochi spoke to him in a low voice. “Ikebukuro is Kyokuta-Kai territory. The Yoshizawa clan was in a feud with them, but Isato brokered a peace several years ago. Now, our mutual business is too profitable to squabble over such things.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re one big happy family now.”

“When Isato put the word out about this girl you’re looking for, one of their members said she had been seen visiting the yonigeya here. They keep an eye on his office in case he tries to help someone skip out on a debt to the Kyokuta.”

“Fly by night arranger. So, if this girl was looking to run, who was she running from?”

Koichi gave him a thin-lipped smile. “I assumed from you, Waters-san.”

Caine shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

Koichi opened the door, and they walked into a small, dirty lobby, its Formica floor yellow with age. Next to the elevator sat an old Chinese man in a frayed brown windbreaker, eating from a plastic bowl. Between slurps of noodles, the man spoke a few words in Japanese, and Koichi nodded. “He says the elevator is broken.”

“Stairs it is.”

Koichi opened a stained white door, with a crumpled lunar calendar tacked to the front. Behind the door they found a flight of rickety wood steps. As they started up the stairs, Caine felt a tightness in the pit of his stomach. They were entering unfamiliar territory.

“Any chance I could get my gun back?”

“I thought you might ask, Waters-san.” Koichi reached behind and pulled the Beretta Storm from his waistband. “Careful. As you said, this gun is hot.”

Caine slid out the magazine to confirm it was loaded. Then he slammed it back in, racked the slide, and flipped the safety off. He noticed Koichi had drawn a small Colt defender pistol from inside his jacket. Caine could see where the stub of his pinky finger ended, unable to circle around the small weapon’s grip.

“Koichi, Kenji told me about that night, what happened. I’m sorry about—”

Koichi sucked in air through his teeth, making a hissing sound. “Now is not the time, Waters-san. And you have nothing to be sorry for.”

“Right. Okay, let’s just say when this is over I owe you a drink.”

“When this is over. Now, the man we are looking for has an office on the fourth floor. His name is Naka.”

They continued up, passing the second floor without incident. As they reached the third floor, the stairwell door burst open. Caine’s hand shot towards his waistband, but stayed there. A young Chinese man stumbled down the stairs, holding the hand of a giggling girl in a short, sparkling dress. As she brushed past them on the stairwell, she muttered something in Chinese and the man laughed.

Caine looked at Koichi, and the older man shrugged. “There’s a massage parlor on this floor. She thinks we’re cops. Bad for her business.”

They continued up the stairwell. Caine’s eyes narrowed and focused. His movements became smooth and graceful, like a stalking cat. He was a predator now. And this man, Naka, was his prey.

The fourth floor was dark and deserted. Doors flanked the short hallway to their left and right. They were marked with Chinese characters, but Caine had no idea what they said. Koichi pointed towards a single door facing them at the far end of the hall. The door was unmarked, but a frosted glass panel was set in the center. Caine couldn’t make out any detail behind the window, but he could tell the lights were off inside.

Caine turned the knob. The door creaked open.

As they stepped into the room beyond, Koichi reached for a light switch. Caine put his hand on the old man’s shoulder to stop him. He pulled a small penlight from his leather jacket and flicked it on, keeping his hand cupped over the bulb. He let the small pinprick of light dance over the office as their eyes adjusted to the darkness. Koichi grunted, and they both drew their weapons. Caine crept along the wall, keeping to the edge of the room.

“Looks like someone had the same idea we did,” he said.

The beam of the flashlight revealed overturned chairs, open file cabinets, and papers littering the floor.

The office had been ransacked.

A safe in the wall, behind a now-empty bookshelf, hung open. Its contents were strewn across the floor like confetti after a New Year’s Eve party. A massive mahogany desk—a bit too grand for its dingy surroundings—sat in front of a large window. Through the window, Caine could see the Ikebukuro lights in the distance. They twinkled behind the dark, jagged skyline of the buildings across the street.

Caine and Koichi crept past a glass partition in the middle of the office. A small sitting area lay behind the frosted glass. A pair of cheap sofas, their vinyl surfaces marked with stains and cigarette burns, flanked a small coffee table. A cracked ceramic ashtray perched on top of a stack of magazines. It was filled with butts and ash. Caine bent down and sniffed. Koichi gave him a strange look.

“Smoked recently,” Caine whispered. He looked up, noticing a small closet door in the corner. The Japanese writing on the wooden door said “Supplies.” Caine pointed to his eyes, then the door. Koichi nodded, and held his gun out as they stalked forward.

 They flanked the door on either side. Caine reached down and twisted the knob. The door swung open about an inch, and something heavy shifted. The closet door crashed open. Caine stepped back, Beretta pointed at the door. A large object toppled over and fell into the room with a thud.

Koichi gasped. It was a body.

Caine knelt down and examined the corpse. It was a Japanese man in his thirties. His ripped, tattered clothes hung off him like rags on a scarecrow. His face was unrecognizable. It was covered in cuts, bruises, and some marks Caine suspected were burns.

“He was tortured,” Caine muttered. “Who the hell did this, Koichi? What’s going on here?”

Koichi shook his head. “Waters-san, I swear I have no idea. Someone didn’t want him talking to us.”

“So, who knew we were coming here tonight?”

Koichi looked back and forth between the body and Caine. “I don’t know. I must call Yoshizawa-san.”

“Wait,” Caine said. “Let’s get our facts straight first. I’ll search the body. Check the desk, see if you can find anything on Hitomi.”

Koichi headed over to the desk. He rustled through papers as Caine dragged Naka’s corpse into the center of the room. He patted down the body. The man’s wallet was still in his back pocket. Caine flipped it open and found the usual contents: a driver’s license, some random business cards, and a few thousand yen. “They left his money,” Caine said. “This wasn’t a robbery.”

“Was there any doubt?” Koichi answered back.

Caine patted down the man’s pockets again. He looked around the floor of the closet. There was nothing there other than boxes of printer paper and other supplies. The bottoms of the boxes were soaked by a thick pool of blood.

“Koichi, I don’t see this guy’s cellphone. He has to have one, right?”

“This is Japan. Three-year-olds have cellphones. Maybe he left it in his desk?”

Caine heard a click, and the room filled with light. Koichi had turned on a desk lamp. Caine blinked. The light was dim, but in the dark office, it was almost blinding. As his eyes adjusted to the light, Caine saw a diffuse red glow sparkle across the frosted glass divider.

It could be nothing … a trick of the light? Perhaps his eyes were still adjusting to the sudden brightness? But as Caine stood up, he felt the familiar tingle and knew to trust his instincts.

He stepped out from behind the divider, raising the Berretta in a double-handed grip. He aimed the weapon towards Koichi and pulled the trigger.

BLAM!

Koichi looked up in shock as Caine’s gunfire blasted over his shoulder. The bullet pierced the window behind him, sending a spider web of cracks through the large pane of glass. Koichi raised his gun towards Caine, but before he could even aim, a second shot rang out. This time the retort was quiet, distant, from across the street. The window exploded into a shimmering curtain of falling glass shards.

“Get down!” Caine shouted.

Koichi dove to the floor, revealing a pencil-thin beam of red light tracing through the office. Caine fired again, and the desk lamp exploded in a shower of sparks. Once again, darkness engulfed the room.

Koichi cursed in Japanese as Caine crawled across the floor, dragging Naka’s corpse behind him.

“That shot, Waters-san. You scared the hell out of me!”

“I saw the laser sight. There wasn’t time to warn you. I figured cracking the glass might throw off his aim.”

“I just thought you were a bad shot.”

“By the way, this may not be the best time, but you should know my name is not Mark Waters.”

Koichi and Caine flanked the window, keeping low. “I thought as much,” Kochi said, “but is there something else you prefer I call you?”

Caine thought for a second, then shrugged. “Not really.”

The sniper’s beam continued to dance across the room. It drifted through the darkness like a cobra, swaying in the air before delivering a killing strike.

Caine shoved Naka’s body across the floor to Koichi. “When I give the word, let’s give this guy something to shoot at. Understand?” The old man nodded. Caine waited until the laser sight disappeared again. “Okay, now!”

Koichi gripped the man’s body by the scruff of his neck, and heaved the corpse up onto the windowsill. The laser sight blinked back on and darted towards Naka’s body. Caine peered around the corner of the window. He saw the flash of red across the street, on the rooftop of another building. Its blaze gave away the sniper’s position, huddled behind a rooftop air conditioning unit.

The shooter fired again, the bullet thudding into Naka’s dead body. Koichi hissed as the impact knocked the corpse backwards. Before the body even hit the ground, Caine stood and aimed his gun towards the roof of the building across the street. The laser sight snapped towards him, but before it could settle, Caine opened fire. He emptied the Beretta’s clip in a wide pattern, sending a hail of bullets at his hidden enemy.