S Vol. 1 (Yaoi Novel)
Written By
Saki Aida
Currently, I’m reading all the books I have on my bookshelves. I regret that I didn’t read them when I had first bought them...how funny.
Blood Type: O
I’m in a period now where I want to fix my ditzy personality.
S Vol.1
S Vol.1-ESU Vol. 1 © SAKI AIDA/CHIHARU NARA. All rights reserved. Original Japanese edition published in 2005 by Taiyoh Tosho Publishing Co., Ltd. English translation copyright © 2008 by DIGITAL MANGA, Inc./ TAIYOH TOSHO CO., LTD. All other material © 2008 by DIGITAL MANGA, Inc. All rights reserved. No portion of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission from the copyright holders. Any likeness of characters, places, and situations featured in this publication to actual persons (living or deceased), events, places, and situations are purely coincidental. All characters depicted in sexually explicit scenes in this publication are at least the age of consent or older. The JUNÉ logo is ™ of DIGITAL MANGA, Inc.
English translation by Translation By Design
Eiji Koide – Taiyoh Tosho Publishing Co., Inc.
Hikaru Sasahara – Digital Manga, Inc.
English Edition Co-Published by:
TAIYOH TOSHO PUBLISHING CO., LTD.
Chiyoda-ku, Tokyo 101-0065
Japan
A division of DIGITAL MANGA, Inc.
1487 W 178th Street, Suite 300
Gardena, CA 90248
USA
www.junemanga.com
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Available Upon Request
ISBN-13: 978-1-56970-706-7
e-ISBN-13: 978-1-931712-50-7
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Other novels published by
JUNÉ
Only The Ring Finger Knows vol.1
The Lonely Ring Finger
Take Off His Clothes vol.1-2
Ai No Kusabi – The Space Between
Vol.1- Stranger
Gun crime, including gun sales, is a highly volatile illegal act backed by organized crime, and the highly skilled methods that criminals now use to conceal weapons are of particular note. We need informants, to whom we can offer protection, to aid in our increasingly difficult investigations.
2003 Police White Paper – The Battle Against Organized Crime
Chapter 1
An ear-piercing, electronic noise interrupted his deep sleep. Masaki Shiiba let out a groan as he was jarred awake by the shapeless intruder. He wanted to smash the phone into silence, but instead, he grudgingly rolled out of bed and grabbed the receiver.
“Hello?” he growled, his voice hoarse and oozing with discontent. However, no reply came from the other end. Assuming that it was a prank call, Shiiba was just about to put down the receiver when finally a voice spoke on the other end.
It was the low voice of a man he didn’t recognize. Shiiba racked his brain, trying to place a name to it. Deciding that it was hopeless in his half-asleep state, Shiiba quickly gave up.
“Who…?” he asked.
Shiiba rubbed his eyelids between his thumb and index fingers. The back of his eyeballs stung. He felt a discomfort, as if a foreign object had pushed itself into his skull.
“Even if I told you my name,” the voice said, “you wouldn’t know who I am. But I know who you are.”
Upon hearing those strange words, Shiiba stopped rubbing his eyes. Inside his head, a red warning light began to flash.
“How did you get my number?” he asked after a pause.
“Be careful with Andou,” the voice said, ignoring his question.
“What?” Shiiba sputtered. “What do you mean…? Hey!”
The line was cut off. Shiiba gritted his teeth and put down the receiver. He was annoyed at having been woken up so early in the morning. Yanking the curtains open, he allowed the morning daylight to flood in, although it was still relatively dark due to the short winter days. Shiiba quickly glanced down at the street before heading to the bathroom.
He showered in the warm water and, eventually, his head began to clear. As Shiiba washed, he wondered if the warning had come from a superior. He arrived at the conclusion that too little information had been given for that to be the case.
Who on Earth was that man? He not only knew Andou, but also that Shiiba was connected to him. That in itself was not strange. Many people knew that Shiiba and Andou were friends. But he had not given his phone number to any of those people besides Andou himself.
He finished his shower, wrapped a bath towel around his waist and entered the kitchen. From the fridge, he took out a cold bottle of mineral water and drank half of it in one gulp. Looking into the empty fridge, Shiiba replayed in his head what the man had said.
He didn’t know what it meant. He had known Andou for three years now, and they had built up a strong relationship. Andou was by far his most important professional contact—a man that Shiiba had no choice but to trust. It was unthinkable that he would have anything to be careful of with Andou. He couldn’t understand what the caller meant at all.
Troubled, Shiiba let out a small sigh. Andou was his S. He couldn’t doubt Andou. To doubt Andou would be to lose his footing. You either swam or sank with your S. Your fates were intertwined.
Putting the bottle back in the fridge, Shiiba went and stood in front of his closet. He chose a plain white shirt from it and pulled it over his naked skin. Next, he put on an expensive suit and combed back the hair that had fallen in front of his face. He then assessed the reflection that looked back at him from the mirror.
His shirt was open wide at the neck and on his chest glittered a gold chain. The dark suit wrapped around his slender body snugly.
Now fully alert, Shiiba took in his reflection and curled his mouth in disgust at what he saw.
He looked like a punk.
But that was fine. The moment that he left this room he was no longer Masaki Shiiba, detective. His name would be Akira Shibano. Saying the name to himself one more time, he closed the closet door on Masaki Shiiba.
Shiiba hung his head as he walked down Yasukuni road.
He was still a little early for his appointment, but he always tried to arrive early rather than make Andou wait. Whenever he was late he felt at a disadvantage. In this job, he had to make sure that things went according to plan, and that he was never in a position where he could be at a disadvantage. He took all possible measures to maintain his confidence.
As he made his way down the street, the people walking in the opposite direction would shuffle to one side upon seeing him approaching them. They might not have meant to do it consciously, but it was a good indication of how Shiiba came across to other people. They weren’t so terrified of him that they would throw themselves to one side, but they weren’t about to encourage him to come any closer either.
“Ah, Mr. Shibano,” a familiar voice called out to Shiiba as soon as he stepped onto Sakura Street, with its numerous brothels that catered to various fetishes. It was Moriguchi, who used to work at one of Andou’s shops. “We’ve got a new girl in. This one’s a real hottie!”
“Heh,” Shiiba said with a smirk. “Well, I definitely wanna get myself some of that then.”
“You say that every time, Mr. Shibano, but you never drop by,” Moriguchi said. “Well, I guess a good-looking guy like you doesn’t have to spend money to get some.”
He shrugged his shoulders, looking disappointed.
Shiiba laughed and said, “Maybe next time.”
“Give my respects to Mr. Andou,” Moriguchi said.
“I will,” Shiiba promised. “Keep on trucking, Moriguchi.”
Andou operated several bathhouses in the Kabuki-cho area so he was well-known in this neighborhood. Through Andou, Shiiba had become acquainted with various people in this locale. You could never have too many connections when it came to intelligence gathering.
His destination lay just ahead, but Shiiba stopped in his tracks. He recognized a face in the dark alleyway. It was a young, well-dressed man screaming something at a much larger man who was restraining him. This was Toshiaki Akai, who was one of Andou’s employees. Toshiaki was clearly in a foul mood and his long hair was in a mess.
“I told you to let me go!” Toshiaki was yelling. “You shit bag! What did I do? All I did was just kick the shop sign a little.”
“A little?” the other man asked. “That was a big mistake. We’ll talk about this at the police station. Come with me.”
“Oh, come on, lay off, Mr. Detective,” Toshiaki whined. “I didn’t—,” Toshiaki noticed Shiiba’s presence and called out to him, “oh, Mr. Shibano!”
Cursing his luck, Shiiba walked over to the two of them, making sure not to give away any sign of recognition on his face.
“Shibano…?” the large man said, looking at Shiiba and frowning. He looked as if he was about to say something.
Shiiba ignored him and instead turned to Toshiaki. “What’s going on? What did you do?”
“I didn’t do anything,” Toshiaki said. “This liquor store owner was giving me crap so on the way out of the store, I just gave the shop sign a little kick. And this…this detective said that I was destroying private property!”
Toshiaki’s face had turned very pale. The large bag that he was carrying probably contained drugs of some kind, something that would land him into trouble if the man did a search.
Shiiba looked at the detective who was standing in front of him and purposefully cocked his head in a show of surprise.
“Well, if it isn’t Mr. Oosako!” he exclaimed. “It’s been a while. What a coincidence.”
Toshiaki’s eyes widened in surprise. “Huh? What? You know this detective?”
“It has been a while. You look well,” the detective replied cautiously.
“Oosako, this is a friend of mine. I know he acts like a jerk, but he’s a good guy underneath. Can’t you let him off? Just this once?” Shiiba wheedled.
He bowed his head, and Oosako nodded reluctantly.
“All right,” Oosako said. “I’ll let you off, just this once. All right, squirt? Don’t do it again. Next time, I’ll arrest you, no questions asked.”
Oosako had made his point. Toshiaki nodded in acknowledgment, but didn’t look entirely convinced.
“Toshiaki, go to the office and tell them that I’m going to be a little late,” Shiiba ordered. “Thanks.”
Nodding to Shiiba, Toshiaki left in a hurry. When he looked back, he saw Shiiba bow to Oosako again.
“I’m sorry,” Shiiba said softly.
“Mr. Shibano, is it now? Must be hard work,” Oosako sympathized with a grim face. “You look so different. I thought you were some kind of gigolo.”
Tonight, Shiiba wore a camel hair coat on top of his suit. He could indeed almost pass for a snobby gigolo.
“It’s work,” he said. “Mr. Oosako, where are you going?”
“Jyuku station,” Oosako replied. “Glad to be back in the fold. I decided to go back to regular detective work.”
Oosako’s words were poignant. This special job wasn’t something that just anyone was cut out for.
Oosako and Shiiba had been colleagues when they had worked at the main station in the Community Safety Division. The two of them had both been transferred to that division at the same time, and they had both been on the special training course in intelligence gathering.
Oosako was 10 years older than Shiiba, but they had gotten along very well when they were on the same course together. Of all the people, Oosako was the only one who did not view Shiiba with bias, but accepted him as he was. After that, they had been posted in a new sector within Community Safety, then to the Intelligence Section of the Arms and Narcotics Division. It was there that they had started working in the various types of information gathering.
However, after half a year, Oosako applied to get reassigned and left the head office. He wasn’t the only one. Out of all the people assigned to Intelligence, only half had made it through. Some quit the police, others, like Oosako, had been reassigned. One by one, they had dropped out. Intelligence was not a popular department to be in.
“You’re in COC5 now?” Shiiba nodded, responding to Oosako’s question. “How is it? I heard that it was pretty tough?”
“The name is different, but most of everything else is the same as when I worked in Community Safety,” Shiiba said.
“I suppose that’s true,” Oosako said with a pained smile. “However much the organization changes, the people in it are still the same.”
In 2003, the Metropolitan Police had undergone a huge reform in which a new Counter-Organized-Crime Division had been set up. Organized crime by gangs, both local and foreign, had, until then, been policed by the Investigation, Community Safety and Public Security divisions. However, the methods used by organized crime groups had gotten worse in recent years—they had become trickier and increasingly more international, posing difficult problems for the Japanese police. Hence, a new division had been set up with increased powers called the Counter-Organized-Crime Division, or COC for short.
COC was made up of roughly 94 people who had previously been part of six other divisions: Unit 1 consisted of special investigators of foreign affairs that had been attached to the Public Security Division, Unit 2 handled the investigation of international crimes and had previously been part of the Detective Division, Unit 3 was a counter-gang unit once also attached to the Detective Division, Unit 4 was an investigative unit, Unit 5 was the Arms and Narcotics Unit which had been a division of Community Safety that Shiiba had formerly been a part of. Finally, there was the Special Investigative Unit into International Organized Crime that was also a part of Community Safety. All of these units were then moved into the COC.
These different units had been part of the police force since 1967. Eventually, the long-standing investigative Unit 4 had ceased to exist. Several members of the police department had raised their voices in protest to this closure, arguing that Unit 4 had an important role in the police force. But the upper levels of management had already made their decision.
Ostensibly, it was merged into the Investigations Division. However, behind all the red tape and restructuring, there was speculation that the change was, in fact, the management’s way of removing parts of the police force that were no longer ‘desirable.’
The different areas of the force had become enemies on the field, no longer working together. The Foreign Crime, Violent Gang Crime, Arms and Narcotics Crime departments would all try to steal investigations from each other in cases where the crimes would inevitably overlap. This created an environment of secrecy where the number of arrests made had become an internal competition and detectives fought over cases. They would hide information from each other and cooperation between the departments was nil.
Also, police leadership had wanted to clean up Investigative Unit 4, which had started to become corrupted, its members collaborating with the gangs they were supposed to be working against in the first place.
“Shinjuku station must be tough too,” Shiiba commented.
“Yeah, it’s always busy there,” Oosako said with a laugh.
Shiiba relaxed a little, nodding in agreement.
Kabuki-cho was the largest red-light district, not only in Japan, but in all of Asia too, and—quite possibly—in the world. It was congested, with about 3,700 establishments occupying a span of over 0.36 km. And everyday, more than 300,000 people visit it. Almost a hundred gangs held offices there, and illegal bathhouses, drug dealers, prostitution and battles between international criminal organizations showed no signs of declining.
In recent years, the Chinese mafia had increased their presence dramatically in Shinjuku. Even the Tokyo Immigration Bureau had set up an office in Shinjuku specifically dealing with illegal immigrants who hadn’t filled in their residence papers. The Bureau coordinated closely with the Metropolitan Police covering Kabuki-cho.
“The head office is a total mess,” Oosako said. “Everyday is a nightmare. We have your special detectives going in and out all the time.”
The Metropolitan Police COC Special Detectives were mainly in charge of raids, especially those dealing with credit card and passport fraud. When they needed support, their best friend was always Shinjuku station.
Oosako added, “I get exhausted running around all the time, but I suppose I must enjoy it all really.”
Oosako was a veteran detective in this area. He was superb at confiscating guns and detecting drugs. His superiors had recognized these skills and reassigned him to the head office’s Arms and Narcotics Unit. But maybe because he was too honest, he just couldn’t handle the special assignments at head office.
“How are you doing?” Oosako asked.
“I’m getting by,” Shiiba answered. “I like this lone wolf kind of work.”
Oosako fell silent and looked at Shiiba like he was contemplating his words.
“Don’t do anything stupid,” he finally said. “If you get into trouble, no one is gonna help you out. Leads can always be a lizard’s tail. Never forget that.”
“Yeah,” Shiiba said.
“That Andou…” Even though there was no one nearby, Oosako lowered his voice as he said, “He’s your S?”
“Something like that,” Shiiba admitted.
“Your S lives in Kabuki-cho?” Oosako said. “If you get into any trouble you can call me anytime. If there is anything I can do, I’ll try my best.”
“Thanks,” Shiiba said, giving a quick bow before leaving Oosako.
As he walked, he subconsciously looked around. He couldn’t be caught talking to one of the Shinjuku police. Luckily, all he saw were some guys strutting in the distance.
He arrived at his destination in no time. Andou’s office was on the fifth floor of an old building. He waited for the elevator to come down. The doors opened with a chime. Just as he was about to get in, he stopped. There was already a person in there.
It was a large man he hadn’t seen before. Shiiba was 176 cm. himself, but this guy was almost 10 cm. taller than him. Over his muscular body, the man wore a black Cashmere coat and his long hair was slicked back. His features were well-defined, rugged and eye-catching. However, his eyes seemed somewhat cold and his tight lips exuded attitude.
Surprised at hearing a voice behind him, Shiiba spun around. Standing right behind him was a man wearing a high-collared black suit. He was about Shiiba’s age and a little taller. He had long narrow eyes and his hair was tied back. Shiiba had thought there was no one around, but the man must have caught up with him at some point.
“Yes,” the man from the elevator answered.
“The car is ready,” the other stranger said.
The man got out of the elevator, and, on seeing Shiiba waiting at the door, his mouth relaxed into a smile.
It wasn’t an unfriendly smile. But Shiiba remained expressionless and just stepped aside. As the man passed by, Shiiba caught a sniff of a sweet fragrance.
The man turned back to Shiiba meaningfully. Once again their eyes met. With their eyes still locked, Shiiba pressed the close button. The doors slowly closed, finally breaking their gaze.
Inside the ascending box, Shiiba let go of the breath that he had unknowingly been holding. He had, without noticing, become very tense. No, he had been more than tense; he had been on his guard. It was difficult to put into words, but that man had a peculiar kind of menace about him. It wasn’t the same as a gangster’s, but he certainly wasn’t an ordinary member of society either.
Shiiba had come into contact with countless people like him before. But those kinds of people were few and far between in this part of the city. Furthermore, he and the man had merely passed each other. Why had the incident put his nerves on edge like that? Shiiba thought it a little odd.
He got off at the fifth floor and opened the door in front of him. There was a small plate on the door that read “Marui Industries.” When he entered the room, he was greeted by a receptionist called Yumi Nishi who had been reading one of the weeklies.
“Oh, Mr. Shibano,” she said. “Good morning. The boss is waiting in his room.”
Shiiba smiled. “Thank you, Yumi. You’re looking pretty today. That dress suits you.”
“Re-really?!” Yumi blushed. She used to work at one of Andou’s bathhouses, but she had a naturally sweet personality that wasn’t suited for a place like that. She was the kind of girl you could really relax around with. When she married one of Andou’s men, Nishi, she had quit working at the bathhouse, and, for half a year now, had been working in the office. She was now considered a member of Andou’s family.
It was called an office, but office work didn’t happen here. All the place was, was a phone number. The real office was, in fact, at another location where they managed the businesses such as the bathhouses. This was the base for Andou’s underworld activities.
Shiiba knocked on the door to Andou’s room. Not waiting for an answer, he opened the door. Andou was in the act of getting up off the sofa that he had been sitting on.
Nishi who had been sitting opposite him also stood up and nodded acknowledgment to Shiiba.
“Sorry I’m late,” Shiiba said as a greeting.
“No, you helped Toshiaki out,” Andou said. “Thank you.”
Andou signaled for Shiiba to sit down on the sofa.
Shiiba did so, saying, “It was nothing. Just lucky it was a cop I knew.”
He took a cigarette out from his business suit and Andou pulled out a light. Putting his face close to the flame, Shiiba took a deep breath. After blowing out a slow stream of smoke, he revealed what had been bothering him.
“Toshiaki might be being watched by the Shinjuku police.”
“You mean that wasn’t just coincidence?” Andou pulled a face as he played with the Cartier lighter.
“I just have a feeling,” Shiiba said. “I can’t be sure.”
“For the moment, we’ll assign him away from that kind of work then,” Andou said after a pause. “He may have a good head on his shoulders, but he lacks discretion.”
“I think that’s a good idea,” Shiiba said.
Their conversation sounded like something between a superior and an inferior, but, in fact, Andou was 31 and Shiiba was 30. In the public eye, Andou ran Korean salons, Turkish baths and some gaming shops, but, behind it all, he played his hand at prostitution and drug pushing. He was a young businessman who had found much success in Tokyo’s underworld. He was wise beyond his years and had outstanding business acumen.
He was also a major player in the Matsukura Group, which was the umbrella organization of the regional Koujin Association. Andou was a corporate associate so he didn’t have to deal with any of the actual work, which was instead overseen by his managers. Andou had used the Group’s prestige to further the success of his business ventures. There was always a large difference between the shops that Andou ran and those that didn’t have a crime syndicate’s support in the background.
Andou was familiar with all the gang leaders that ran businesses. He was a perfect S. Shiiba couldn’t have asked for a better resource person.
“For the time being, Toshiaki isn’t allowed to handle goods. Got that, Nishi?” Andou ordered.
“Understood, sir,” Nishi answered.
Nishi was Andou’s right-hand man. His job title was Executive Managing Director, but he wasn’t really involved in running the company. The management of Andou’s illegal activities was his real duty. Though a bit uninteresting, he seemed to be a capable person and was very aware of everything that happened around him.
“I have something for you. Next month, there is going to be a big crackdown,” Shiiba said.
“The Metropolitan Police Counter-Crime Unit, the Community Safety Division and the Immigration Bureau are going to be cooperating with a total of 500 men apparently,” Shiiba continued.
Andou nodded with a serious expression. “Make sure that the shops are told to be careful. Thank you again. You’ve been a great help.”
There were plenty of foreign women illegally working in his bathhouses so an unexpected crackdown could potentially devastate his income.
“Mr. Shibano, how do you always manage to obtain that kind of information?” Nishi asked, looking thankfully at Shiiba.
Of course, there was no way that Shiiba could say it was a leak from his superior. In addition to himself, other investigators who were also using an S received this kind of classified information from above. As they were technically illegal, these undercover operations were unofficial and off the record. If the undercover investigators relayed valuable information to their S, then the trust between them would be strengthened. This was one of their duties. To ensure that the S’s operations went well, the investigators had to become their S’s benefactors, put them in their debt, and gain a psychological power over them.
“I have friends within the Metropolitan Police force,” Shiiba answered. “I told you before. I have a lot of influence in this business.”
“But that kind of classified information is pretty—” Nishi began.
“Nishi,” Andou interrupted. “Go there now and tell the managers to be careful. Be especially careful in the Korean place.”
“Understood, sir.” Nishi nodded, and stood up quickly.
When they were alone, Shiiba put out the cigarette and apologized. Andou shook his head.
Only Andou knew that Shiiba was a detective. Andou had explained to Nishi and other members of his family that Shiiba was a freelance reporter who had helped him in the past. Shiiba also had kept with this lie and, when asked, he would say that he was writing a report on bathhouses and the underworld companies. That way it wouldn’t be so suspicious when he had interesting information.
Sometimes, people would ask to see the reports that he had been writing, and when that had happened, he would give the name of a school friend who now worked as a non-fiction novelist. Shiiba would say that he was this guy’s ghostwriter, so they should read his books. If the friend in question ever found out, there was no doubt that he would go red with rage.
Andou kept the truth even from Nishi, whom he put much faith in. He knew that a small tear in the cover could easily become a gaping hole. If it was discovered that he had been colluding with a detective, then that would spell the end of his life in this underground society.
When crossing such a dangerous bridge, there was no room for feeling guilty. Gathering information from his S was Shiiba’s job. There was no sentimentality in it. He simply resolved to look for the deadly weapons buried somewhere in this city. That was Shiiba’s one driving purpose.
In the Metropolitan Police COC5, Shiiba was part of the department that specialized in arms and his current duty was to obtain information on arms trafficking.
COC5 included the Narcotics and Arms Investigation Units. The unit that specialized solely in arms proliferation was split into two teams, the Incidents Team and the Intelligence Team. Shiiba had been assigned to the Intelligence Team so he wasn’t at the forefront of operations, but rather, worked to gather intelligence from people who would cooperate.
Intelligence gathering was a shadowy existence. If an investigator managed to confirm the location of hidden arms, he would then relay that information to the Incidents Team. He wouldn’t even participate in the following suspect interrogations.
Until the inauguration of the Counter-Arms unit within the Community Safety Division, arms investigations had been overseen by the investigative fourth unit, which specialized in crime syndicates. However, as gun crime had steadily increased, and the seizure of guns went on the decline, the Metropolitan Police had decided that conventional investigative methods might not be sufficient anymore. Thus, the plan they had adopted was a secret intelligence initiative called an “S operation.”
Detectives would win over people who had positions in the crime syndicates and obtain from them information on arms trafficking. These inside informants were called “S” or a spy. It sounded like something straight out of a Hollywood movie script, but the reality was that the Metropolitan Police and the COC were using these S informants to gather intelligence throughout the city.
However, this wasn’t an easy task. First off, it was very difficult to find someone who would agree to collaborate as an S. The detectives had to build up a strong relationship of trust with those involved in organized crime. The detectives then had to liaise with the people who were most likely to be useful to them. These people were, more often than not, hardened criminals. To any person with a strong sense of morality and justice, especially someone like a police officer, this was a psychologically taxing experience.
Then, even if you managed to find someone that you could use as an S, there was still the danger that something could happen to your S if his identity was revealed. Also, regular meetings with your S meant that there would also be instances where you couldn’t avoid being involved in illegal activities. The emotional drain on the investigator was extraordinary and involved enormous personal risk.
“Have you found out any more?” Shiiba asked, returning to the main issue.
Andou made a face. “There is no doubt that he’s a dealer. I looked into his financial situation, and when I showed him the cold hard cash, he ate it up.”
Andou had become acquainted with a male Chinese resident in Japan through his overt business relations. The man operated a trading company in the capital and his name was Ying Fa Lin. When Andou had told him at a bar that he had a small gun shop in Ikebukuro, the Chinese man had shown a great deal of interest. Andou’s gun shop was rather small and he let other people manage it, but it had become a great way to elicit information from a target.
Andou had met with the man several times and the Chinese man had come to see his shop. He had asked if Andou was interested in seeing ‘real guns.’
“You didn’t agree to a deal, did you?” Shiiba asked.
Andou answered immediately, “Of course not.”
In principle, for the informant and the investigator to allow a crime to happen was not a crime itself. Narcotics were left to the drug enforcement officers of the Ministry of Health, Labor and Welfare, whereas the proliferation of guns was the domain of the police and the coast guard. However, negotiations that had led to arrests in which the informant had instigated or provoked a crime could cause big problems later, when the criminal was apprehended. In cases dealing with arms sales, the restrictions were particularly severe, so there hadn’t really been much on the ground investigation.
“It was him that was interested,” Andou added. “He said that he could get hold of any number of guns.”
Perhaps the man was a big time broker. If that were the case, then this would be a real breakthrough. Shiiba knew what his supervisors would tell him to do though. It was always the same order: don’t actively pursue, only observe. He had to obey orders.
“Keep meeting with him, but don’t make him suspicious,” Shiiba advised. “Even if he wants to speed up the negotiations, try your best to prolong it.”
“Understood,” Andou answered..
Andou was an excellent S. Through his information, the police had been able to seize dozens of weapons and hundreds of rounds of ammunition. However, the higher powers wanted not only to seize arms, but also to obtain information on the delivery methods. Thus, in these sorts of cases, the police would have proceeded with a CD or Controlled Delivery Investigation.
Controlled Delivery Investigation was a method often used in narcotics intelligence where the police wouldn’t make an arrest at the scene, but, under sufficient observation, would allow the drug dealers to continue so that the police could discover the recipients and sources of the drugs. Even if the police arrested the end seller, there would be many people in-between that would get away. The organization that was behind the trafficking would try and hide itself as best it could. It was always a game of cat and mouse between the police and the criminals.
Now was the perfect time for an investigator on the scene like Shiiba to employ a CD investigation. It was imperative to produce results in the current police system and this was exactly the sort of case where Shiiba could get results. Through Shiiba’s efforts, countless arms across the country had been discovered. Those were the figures that his bosses required of him. They had even faked situations where his own S’s gun was ‘seized.’
After several scandals as a result of these CD investigations, the police force had changed its policy to no longer look for individual guns, but rather to focus on discovering the larger organizations behind the sales. That said, the public still demanded the same statistics as those in previous years. However, this new approach had a large effect on the statistics. Gun crime increased and arms seizures decreased. It was now a matter of grave concern for the police force.
Now the detectives had the double responsibility of maintaining the number of seized guns up and also of gathering information on the crime syndicates in the background. These conflicting demands had put amazing pressure on the detectives in the field.
After the meeting, Shiiba stood up. He had to meet with other informants now. Andou was the only one registered with the Metropolitan Police as an S, but there were several other men in this criminal society that would part with information for a little money.
Andou quickly stood up as well and opened the door for Shiiba. Andou always did this, but Shiiba felt that there was something odd about his attitude this time.
Shiiba sensed that behind Andou’s obedience, he was hiding something.
“I’ll be back. If anything happens, let me know,” Shiiba said.
“Yes, and thank you for the information,” Andou said.
When standing together, Andou was taller. But despite his height, Shiiba didn’t sense any kind of intimidation from him. Perhaps this was because of Andou’s reticence and mildness.
He suddenly remembered that phone conversation.
The voice of the unknown man floated at the back of his mind like an illusion.
“Your hair has grown,” Andou said, his fingers stroking the back of Shiiba’s neck.
Shiiba turned around quite violently and Andou quickly apologized, withdrawing his fingers.
“Yeah, I should get it cut,” Shiiba said after a pause.
“Long hair suits you,” Andou said. “I like it.”
“Really? Well, maybe I’ll let it grow a while, then.” Shiiba smiled and Andou’s eyes opened a little wider. Shiiba rarely smiled so Andou had been taken off guard. “Andou, I want to thank you for everything. I know it’s difficult for you. You are going to keep working with me, aren’t you?” Shiiba said suddenly.
Andou looked troubled. However, he immediately replied as expected, “I’m Mr. Shibano’s S. I’m not going to let you down in any way. Please don’t worry.”
Shiiba nodded at Andou’s reassuring words and pushed the issue one last time, looking intently at him. “You’re the only one that I can rely on.”
Andou looked back at Shiiba, not blinking once. His eyes were full of a burning emotion that he couldn’t hide.
Shiiba, finally satisfied, said that he could see himself out and left the room. Stepping out onto the street, he melted into the crowd. It had only been for a brief moment, but Andou’s fingertips were warm and he could still feel the man’s touch on his neck. He let out a sigh.
Such foolishness. Andou had feelings for him. What Shiiba was doing made him despise even himself. He would go so far as to abuse someone’s love if the job required it. Oosako had told him he had changed. It had been over two years since Shiiba first created his other identity, Shibano. He remembered that, at first, he had been entirely unfamiliar with the town and everything made him nervous and uncomfortable. Now it was his everyday life. There wasn’t anyone looking at Shiiba who would have thought that he was a cop. He had worked hard at not looking like one, because if he hadn’t, then there would have been trouble.
However, the more he became involved in this city, the more he felt the self-contradiction. The desire to run away from it all was growing; to run away from this job where he had to hide who he was, cooperate and build trust with people he should be apprehending. The more he did it, the more it wore him out. It was like a part of his heart was becoming numb. Perhaps it would be better to retire from it all like Oosako had done.
He wondered why he kept going despite all these reservations. The job didn’t feel like justice. It was a job that anyone with no moral standards could do. To get information on one crime, he had to watch other crimes happen right in front of his eyes. That was his life, everyday.
Ultimately, he never quit because he felt responsible somehow.
Chapter 2
The next afternoon, Shiiba left home and headed to an apartment block located in Shibuya. For the most part, the block was full of tenants, with the exception of the third floor, which was the operations base of the Matsuda Unit that Shiiba was employed in. Once a week, he would meet with the head of the unit and the seven other investigators in his group. Each investigator would give a report on their recent activities at the meeting.
The investigators of the intelligence unit had to hide their identities for their undercover research, so they couldn’t enter an official police building without first obtaining prior permission. Hence, the necessity for this weekly meeting. Since Shiiba began this job, he had hardly been near a police station.
The Counter Organized Crime Intelligence Unit 5 was divided into various teams. One team focused on shipping ports, another team on the importers, and another on international sales brokers. They would slowly infiltrate organizations from which they could easily obtain information on guns. The Matsuda team’s target was, of course, gangsters.
Present that day, in addition to the seven investigators and Supervisor Asada, was Section Head Takasaki, who was the overall head of the Intelligence Team. Takasaki would show up about once a month to give specific orders, but generally speaking, it was very rare for the Section Head to go there.
After each investigator had given a report on their information and the development of their surveillance, they would then receive notices or orders from their superiors. Takasaki appealed to them to try and gather as much information as possible on weapons dealers and trafficking routes because there were fears that armed skirmishes between rival gangs might soon break out into a full-scale war.
In the room, there was a desk at which each person would go to file his report. Shiiba, like the other investigators, took out one of the forms. After writing down where and for how long he had met with Andou and his other informants, and putting in details of any information gleaned from these meetings, he handed it to Takasaki who was sitting on the sofa.
Shiiba was then stopped by Asada who was sitting beside Takasaki. “Mr. Shiiba, can I have a minute?”
“Yes, what is it?” he asked, stopping and turning to face Asada who was still sitting. Shiiba was older, but Shiiba was of detective rank while Asada was a captain. The difference was like that of heaven and Earth.
“Yesterday, I had dinner with Counselor Shinozuka,” Asada said. “The counselor was quite concerned about you. He hasn’t been able to reach you whenever he calls. It’s worried him quite a bit, so could you please contact him?”
Shiiba knew that Asada wasn’t giving advice from the goodness of his heart. No good could come about if his name was mentioned. Asada probably had an ulterior motive. He was the kind of man who only really had interest in the progression of his own career.
“I’m sorry that I worried him,” Shiiba said. “I’ll call him today.”
Asada gave a satisfied nod, and, having finished his business, followed Takasaki back to headquarters.
One of the investigators started the ball rolling with a whispered, “A real official, that’s something.”
“Right!” another investigator called out. “Hey, Shiiba, what makes you more special than all us other investigators?”
“Well, it was bound to happen,” still another joined in. “Andou has been working so hard for him, he’s due for something good.”
Hidden behind the laughter and the jokes was real envy. The truth was that Shiiba hadn’t had to pay Andou a single yen. You could pay your S for information or as a thank you for his cooperation, but Andou had not even once accepted money. When mentioned, it almost seemed to annoy him.
Shiiba knew this was just the beginning, so he just ignored the taunts, nodded his farewells and left the room alone.
He was accustomed to his colleagues’ hatred. The police force was an unforgiving world. One of its rules was that you treated your superior like a pet would a master. However, Shiiba was different in that he wouldn’t kiss up and give fake smiles, and therefore, didn’t endear himself to the detectives above him.
Furthermore, he was the youngest detective within COC5. Shiiba was the lowest in the hierarchy, but he was the one who obtained the most valuable information when it came to gun proliferation. Because of this, he found himself the target of criticism.
However, the main reason that Shiiba attracted the other detectives’ hostility was that he received special treatment from the Metropolitan force. But even he couldn’t do anything about this.
After graduating from the Police Academy, Shiiba had been employed by a regional police station in Motofuji. In his local police station, he had become a detective at 25. To become a detective at that age was unheard of.
To make detective, you had to take an intelligence-gathering course that was held only once a year. To take the course, you had to be recommended by your police chief, but only one or two people could receive this recommendation. There were several police officers that waited year after year to receive this recommendation—getting that far was hard enough.
Finally, even if you managed to obtain the recommendation, there were only 40 or 50 places available. So among the 101 stations, over a hundred police officers were recommended and more than half of them failed the selection examination. These were not small obstacles, so no matter how good the police officer was, you usually had to wait until at least you were in your late 20’s or early 30’s to become a detective.
Shiiba had defied all these, becoming a detective at an extraordinarily young age, and had been transferred to the Metropolitan Police after only a year. The competition in head office was inordinately high. To be a detective at head office at such a young age, it was only natural that the people around him thought it to be the result of favoritism.
Then, there was Shiiba’s brother-in-law. His sister had died six years ago, so now he was only brother-in-law in name. Regardless, they were like family.
His brother-in-law’s name was Hideyuki Shinozuka. He was on a civil servant career track at 36 and was now a police captain. He was now working at the Metropolitan Police Public Security Department as a Counselor for Security Policy.
In a police organization that was very close and restricted, Shiiba often felt the presence of his brother-in-law behind him, making him feel oppressed and surrounded. Curious eyes. Jealousy. Resentment. If he ever floundered, his civil servant brother-in-law would always be there to lend him a helping hand.
However, the reason that his peers rejected him was not only because of his brother-in-law. Part of it was because Shiiba’s career history was also entirely different from theirs.
After Shiiba’s four years at the Academy, against all odds, he had passed the examination for first-class civil service. But when he had been given a job offer as an officer at the Metropolitan Police, he had turned it down. He then did the unthinkable and took the test again to be a local government employee and joined as a non-career track police officer.
In other words, rather than taking the career track of a civil servant and thus having the possibility of rising to the top, he instead had chosen to work on the field as nothing more than a lowly foot soldier. Even though it was laughed at as total idiocy, no one could change his mind. Shiiba knew that those who knew his background would mock him for his life choice, since they were full of jealousy. He tried not to care, but the reality was wherever he went, he couldn’t fit in with his peers.
In the corridor, as he was waiting for the elevator, a voice called out to him. Turning around, he saw that it was Takehara who had been in the same room as him just now.
Takehara was the oldest detective in the Matsuda team. He was probably not quite 50 yet, but his hair was white and his eyes were outlined with deep creases. He was kind and looked out for others, and was fondly called ‘Take’ by everyone.
“Don’t worry too much about it,” he said. “They’re just bitter because you always bring back good information.”
“I don’t care,” Shiiba said. He immediately regretted his blunt reply. Takehara was concerned for him. The man had even followed him out to talk with him.
However, Takehara didn’t even seem to notice Shiiba’s rudeness. “Well, that’s all right. You’ve been working too hard. Remember that plenty of men have been fired when they worked too hard. No one ever gets fired for not working in this place,” he said with a cheeky grin across his face. He was right. “It would be great if this Chinese man Andou is meeting with is it,” Takehara added.
“Yes, I want to try and get closer to him,” Shiiba said.
They got into the elevator together. Takehara said in a quiet voice, “Hey, Shiiba, Andou is an excellent S. He’s done a lot for you. So make sure that you look out for him. Looking after our S is an important job. There are those that use the weaknesses of their S, but those relationships are weak. Using money is the same. It can always betray you. You need to have something greater. Trust them and be trusted. It’s the only real way.”
The words of a veteran investigator who had used an S held a lot of weight. Shiiba had heard the rumors that when Takehara’s S had been targeted by a gang, Takehara had taken a gun himself and stayed at his S’s house to protect the man.
The elevator arrived at the first floor. Just as the elevator opened Takehara said, “Hey, Shiiba. Your S is like your woman.”
“Yes, even though they are criminals, even though they are an enemy to our society, they rely on us. It’s kind of lovable.”
He understood what Takehara was trying to say. Shiiba cared for Andou a lot. He needed him. However, that kind of emotion made it all the more dangerous. Of course, trust was a necessity, but your S was more like a pet dog. He had to try and remember that.
“My S is my important partner,” he said. “We have the same interests. I obtain the information and he receives special treatment from the police. The bottom line is they don’t do it for nothing.”
Hearing himself say those words, Shiiba couldn’t help but know that they were wrong. He cared for Andou a lot. At the bottom of his heart, he even felt a little scared of the strength of those affections. It was difficult to deny that his relationship with his S was strong enough for him to go beyond the call of duty.
“If anything happens, the officers at the head office will tell you to cut yourself off from your S,” Takehara said.
“That’s why I don’t want anything more than a business partnership with my S,” Shiiba insisted. “Isn’t that what you think?”
Takehara rephrased his comment. “No matter what our supervisors say, our job is to protect our S. No, it’s not quite a job. It’s not an issue of duty. It is simple human relations. Maybe because you are still young, you don’t understand. But, you know, Shiiba, having an S is gambling with life.”
Shiiba guessed that Takehara was trying to say that he, Shiiba, wasn’t ready. The man didn’t intend to be mean-hearted about it, but from the standpoint of a veteran investigator, Shiiba was still a rookie, not yet able to be trusted entirely.
After Takehara left, Shiiba took the Yamanote line to Ikebukuro. He left Ikebukuro East Station and walked down busy Sunshine Street. He headed towards a small gun shop located under the train line. The sign said “Gunshop Aviz.” It was the shop that Andou managed.
Opening the glass door, Horibe who ran the shop, called out to him. Horibe was a large man in his mid-30’s who wore a beard. He was a huge fan of guns.
“Mr. Shibano,” he said. “Long time, no see. Still alive then? I thought you might have drowned in Tokyo harbor.”
“Hey, think I would bite the dust that easily?” Shiiba retorted.
Pretending to admire a Colt Government that was decorating a showcase, Shiiba looked around the shop. The only patrons were two young boys who looked like students.
“Wanna sit down?” Horibe offered. “Take your time.”
Horibe was sitting by the counter and was holding disassembled parts of a model gun in his hand. Andou had acquired this toy and model gun shop about two years ago and Horibe was employed as its salesman. Model guns weren’t just Horibe’s work though, they were his passion too, so he’d also take on repair work.
Shiiba sat down next to Horibe and took a quick look at the notebook computer that was there. The browser was opened to the store’s homepage, more specifically, to a forum page where anyone could contribute. There were lots of posts rating how this particular gun manufacturer was, or how to obtain a certain clip for this or that.
“Business slow as usual then,” he commented.
“You always say that,” Horibe answered. “What do you expect? This is a model gun shop. It’s always not going to be packed. Besides, kids today are only interested in survival games. If they want to buy something, they prefer an electric gun or an air gun. I told Mr. Andou that he wouldn’t make much of a profit. But as long as I don’t go into the red, he doesn’t seem to mind.”
Survival games used BB guns or toy guns. The popularity of those toy guns meant a decline in the popularity of model guns. However, the complexity and precision required in creating model guns was far greater. Because of this aesthetic, there were enough hardcore collectors who stuck rigidly to collecting model guns.
“How are things lately?” Shiiba asked. He wasn’t talking about the shop’s ledger.
“I haven’t heard anything,” Horibe answered.
Horibe also wrote articles about toy guns for magazines. His homepage was pretty popular among gun enthusiasts because there was a lot of random information in it.
One time, there had been a man on the Internet who had wanted to procure the real thing, but Horibe had let Shiiba know right away. COC5 had acted quickly and managed to avoid the crime.
Another time, emails from some students that had been sent to Horibe had raised suspicions that they might be in possession of real guns. The students in question were made to turn themselves in after Shiiba’s persuasions.
Previously, gun sales had been the sole special interest of crime syndicates. But with the popularization of the Internet, now even ordinary citizens who liked and owned guns became involved in the conflict. Shiiba would often drop by because Horibe would receive this kind of information.
Andou employed Horibe, but he was an ordinary employee and not a member of the family. So, even though Horibe was aware that he was a detective, Shiiba met him under his assumed name. Horibe himself disliked gun enthusiasts who searched out real weapons. That’s why he always helped Shiiba out in his investigations.
“Just keep getting these idiots that come in asking questions like ‘Can I get real guns anywhere?’” Shiiba said.
Horibe nodded and moved the mouse. He clicked an icon and a display of sales came up.
There was a model gun that looked like a Ruger that was labeled “Marushin, South 14 style MAXI, Later model HW.”
“I’ve seen this one,” said Shiiba.
Horibe raised an eyebrow in interest. “Which one?”
Shiiba pointed. “That one. When I was in Community Safety, I got a tip about a house with a gun. I did a search and pulled this out of the closet. It was pretty rusted though.”
Horibe laughed. “The South 14 style is a semi-automatic hand gun that the army used to use. A lot of veterans brought them back from the war and kept them.”
“Yeah, the person in question had passed away and no one else seemed to know that it was even in the house,” Shiiba said.
In cases like that, the police wouldn’t punish the family. In the 1995 gun law revisions, a system had been put in place where you could turn the gun in yourself. If you handed the gun to the police before they detected it, then the sentence would be decreased or waived.
The two students buzzed with excitement as they looked over at the showcase near the counter.
“That’s a Colt Government 70 Series, isn’t it?” one asked.
“Wow. So cool,” his friend agreed.
“It’s a beauty, all right. You wanna buy one?” Horibe said.
One of the students that Horibe had called out to turned around and looked at the shop owner as if he was joking with them.
“I can’t afford that,” the boy said.
“But it looks cool, right?” Horibe laughed. “Strictly advanced order only. If you want it, you better say so quickly.”
“I really can’t afford it,” the boy insisted.
After a few more longing gazes into the showcase, the students left. Shiiba watched them leave with an ambivalent feeling in his heart.
“Even kids wanna get into them,” he said.
“Hmm?” Horibe put the dismantled cylinder onto the worktable, pointed at Shiiba’s forehead and laughed. “You’re going to get wrinkles worrying that much.”
He continued, “Come on, Mr. Shibano, you must have had a toy pistol when you were a kid and pretended to fire it at your friends? You know, BANG BANG.”
“Yeah, guess I did,” Shiiba admitted. “I had a toy gun. Made me feel like a real action hero. My parents got it for me.”
“I knew it,” Horibe said. “Boys are all the same. Guns are just so cool. They’re fun to look at and never get boring.”
Understanding what Horibe was trying to say, Shiiba smiled wryly. People who liked looking cool were not criminals. They didn’t see guns as weapons and they didn’t need to get close to the real thing. They were just satisfied with looking the part. However, the reality was that some people desired more and sought out the real thing. According to the statistics, guns seized from people not involved in organized crime had risen above that of guns seized from gangs.
Shiiba ran his finger down the black body of a Beretta that had caught his eye. The metal felt cold to the touch. The gun had a unique shape. It was a strange feeling. He understood the fascination.
However, a gun wasn’t a toy. It was a deadly weapon that had the capacity to seriously wound or take a person’s life with the squeeze of a trigger. An errant bullet could easily rob someone of a life. All it took was a moment.
A sad memory floated in the back of Shiiba’s mind. Something beautiful that he lost because of a small bullet.
If only he could rid the world of all guns…
That was the only firm conviction Shiiba held onto now.
The shop owner led Andou and Shiiba through the shop entrance to a separate room. They were at a restaurant that Andou liked in Minamiaoyama.
After ordering some food, Shiiba immediately questioned Andou. “What happened?”
As soon as Andou had gotten into the car, Shiiba had noticed that the man was acting strangely. Andou had surveyed the cars in front and at the back, and those that passed. As he got out of the car and entered the restaurant, he was careful of his surroundings.
“Something’s up,” Shiiba insisted. “You’re restless. You’re not yourself.”
Andou was a little hesitant, but soon he started talking. “I feel like I’m being watched.”
“Why? Who?” Shiiba asked, stunned.
“I don’t know,” Andou replied after a pause.
For a moment, Shiiba thought it might be a police officer working in Narcotics. But that couldn’t be, because Andou was listed in the police computer system as under investigation. Shiiba had done the listing himself. It couldn’t be a police officer following Andou.
Organized crime relating to narcotics was generally spread over a wide area, so there was quite often competition between the different stations. Therefore, if a suspect was arrested or being investigated for narcotics crimes then a code called a ‘Y card’ would be inputted into the suspect’s file, which would then be uploaded to the Metropolitan Police’s main computer. The system would coordinate cases where investigations clashed.
Therefore, if a police officer had indeed been tracking Andou, then when they logged on, they would know straight away that COC5 was investigating the man. Even if officers from another prefecture were involved, they couldn’t start an investigation without prior permission from the Metropolitan Police force. In other words, by exploiting the system, Shiiba had ensured protection for his S, at least from other police members.
If it wasn’t the police, then it was possible that it was a gang member who was in a dispute with Andou’s group or a drug official. But it was unlikely that an organized crime gang was following Andou.
“Could it be a drug official?” Shiiba mused.
Andou looked a little troubled. Drug officials were employed in a special section of the police. They fell under the jurisdiction of the Ministry of Health, Labor and Welfare so they were a separate entity from the units that policed narcotic crime.
If a drug official was tailing Andou, then that could cause some real problems. The police and the Ministry of Health, Labor and Welfare didn’t share information so anything that Shiiba entered into the computer database would not be relevant.
“Hey, Andou, why don’t you stop with the drugs?” Shiiba urged. “If throwing that business away entirely is too much, then give it to someone else below to do, and just take a portion of the profits.”
Andou didn’t say anything. He was probably considering the best course of action.
“For the time being, just move it all to a safe place and don’t distribute it to the dealers for a while,” Shiiba advised.
“Yes, I’ll do that,” Andou finally conceded.
“Promise me,” Shiiba insisted. “If it really is a drug official, then I won’t be able to protect you.” Shiiba made eye contact with Andou to push his point.
As Andou nodded, they heard a shuffling from behind the sliding door and a waitress carried in their food. Her entrance ended that line of conversation.
During their meal, they discussed the Chinese dealer Ying Fa Lin instead.
“Did you meet with Lin yesterday? How did it go?” At the moment, Shiiba wanted information on Lin more than anything else.
“It seems Lin will go back to China tomorrow and return on the 10th of next month,” Andou said. “I told him that I had a friend called Mr. Shibano with an interest in guns. I said that you were a little rich kid who had inherited a large fortune from his parents and he seemed pretty interested in that. Then when I met him, he said that he had something good to show me and took out a gun. It was a Tokarev, but there was something strange…”
“Strange? How do you mean strange?” Shiiba asked.
“It had no markings,” Andou answered.
“No markings? Scratched off?” Shiiba said.
“No, it never had them,” Andou clarified. “I asked him if it was a bootleg and Lin said that it was a genuine made-in-China, a Tokarev.”
Usually, a gun was engraved with the maker’s name and a serial number. Among the Tokarev brought into Japan, there were plenty whose markings had been scratched off to prevent detection of their place of origin, but to never have had those markings was indeed strange.
“He also said that if I don’t like the Tokarev, he has a Makarov that he can also get in bulk,” Andou added.
Shiiba wanted to speak to Lin directly at least once. There was, most probably, a large organization working behind the man.
“When Lin gets back to Japan, arrange a meeting,” he requested. Andou didn’t nod straight away and looked troubled. Shiiba tried to probe him. “Is there a problem?”
“I think it’s best if you didn’t meet with him,” Andou replied. “That man has strange interests.”
“Strange interests? What do you mean?” Shiiba asked.
Andou started to explain himself, but he wasn’t being clear. “He asked me to introduce him to some girls. But he’s into S&M and the girls didn’t like it one bit. They are the most important asset in my work so I warned him, but then he wanted men…”
“Yes. He wanted young, pretty men. I think that he actually prefers men to women. If Lin sees a guy like yourself then….” Andou left the rest of his sentence hanging.
He was worried that Lin would lust after Shiiba. Shiiba understood this advice came from Andou’s concern for him, but it wasn’t enough to change his mind.
Andou might also have been saying it out of jealousy. It could all have been out of self-interest. It was a testament to the deep affection that he had for Shiiba.
“Don’t worry,” Shiiba said, trying to lighten the mood. “You’ll be with me.”
Andou still didn’t look happy, but he didn’t say anything anymore.
When they finished dinner, they each had coffee.
“It’s coming up soon,” said Shiiba, bringing the cup to his mouth.
“What is?” Andou asked, puzzled.
“Miss Kaori’s anniversary,” Shiiba replied. “Shall we go to the tomb together?”
Andou nodded at Shiiba’s request. “Thank you for remembering again this year.”
“Don’t thank me,” Shiiba said. “Of course I would remember.”
It still hurt for Shiiba to remember Kaori. If only he had been more careful. It was his biggest regret.
Kaori had been Andou’s younger sister by four years. She had worked in a regular company and lived on her own in an apartment, but she had been the victim of a vicious stalker. It was when she had filed a complaint with the Motofuji station that Shiiba had gotten to know her. It was about the same time that Shiiba had left uniformed police work to become an undercover detective.
The stalking had continued. They had worked out that it was a 39-year-old guy who lived in the city and who used to date Kaori. The Motofuji police had warned him, as was standard, and the stalker stopped. They thought that they didn’t need to worry anymore. But then one day, the stalker had suddenly forced his way into Kaori’s home and strangled her to death. The stalker had held it against her that she had gone to the police.
It was while he was checking up on Kaori that Shiiba met Andou. He had found it difficult to believe that the man who cared so sincerely about his sister also ran bathhouses in Kabuki-cho and had organized crime connections.
After Kaori’s death, Shiiba bowed to Andou so many times. He could only apologize for not protecting her.
About a month afterwards, Andou had unexpectedly approached Shiiba with some information on a man who was hiding guns. When he investigated, it was just as Andou had said. His unit had ended up seizing guns and several hundred rounds of ammunition from the man’s house. It was at that point that Shiiba had decided to take a position in the Counter Guns unit and had been reassigned from Community Safety.
During the investigation of that case, his superiors had decided that Andou had the right personality to be an informant. Shiiba was ordered to get more information out of Andou. It was now close to three years that the two of them had been partnered in this way.
“Andou, can I ask you something?” Shiiba said.
“After Kaori died, why did you bring me that lead?” Shiiba asked.
Andou narrowed his eyes as if trying to remember.
“You really cared about Kaori,” he replied. “When she died, you even cried with me. Kaori used to tell me that she had a really reliable detective watching over her, so I needn’t worry anymore. Before, when she told people about the stalker, no one had listened. You listened and visited her so many times. She was so grateful to you. Me too. I’m really glad that we met.”
Was this simple gratitude? It was like Andou was trying to express himself, but couldn’t.
Shiiba couldn’t return the love. “I guess it was a thank you, then. We’re the same, aren’t we?” he said.
“Yes. We both lost our parents, and were left with only our sisters,” Shiiba clarified. “And then to have that one most important person murdered.”
He had told Andou that he had lost his sister. It had been after Kaori’s funeral, they had been drinking together and it had slipped out. Maybe he had wanted to empathize with Andou, whose pain he knew only too well.
“Mr. Shiiba, you and I have known the same pain.” Andou didn’t call him Mr. Shibano as he normally did. He called him by his true name.
Shiiba was a little shaken by this sudden change in atmosphere.
He picked up the ashtray on the table and motioned for Andou’s lighter. Andou didn’t open the lighter for him, but just held it out. Reaching out to take it, the silver lighter was softly placed into Shiiba’s hand.
In the next instant, something Shiiba hadn’t expected happened. Andou grabbed the hand that Shiiba was holding the lighter in. The place where he touched felt hot. That heat then moved up Shiiba’s arm to fill his entire body. It didn’t seem real. Shiiba was overcome by an intense uneasiness, almost like a panic.
“Andou…” His small voice called the name out like a desperate plea. Andou remained expressionless and then released Shiiba’s hand. The place became filled with an uneasy silence.
As Shiiba tried to form words, Andou stood up.
He was acting like nothing had happened. Shiiba felt enraged that Andou had scared him like that. But when Andou turned around, Shiiba’s anger dissipated. Andou had just held his hand, and Shiiba had become flustered. If Andou really was after him, then Shiiba didn’t know what he would do.
He had been so confident in Andou’s obedience. Andou was his tamed dog. However, now he felt like he should take care that Andou’s emotions didn’t endanger this working relationship.
Feeling troubled by this development, he opened the sliding door and stepped out into the corridor. Standing there was an eye-catching, tall man. Shiiba stopped in his tracks.
Their eyes met. Upon noticing Shiiba, the corners of the man’s mouth turned up meaningfully.
It was the same man he had passed at Andou’s office. Tonight, he was wearing a simple three-piece suit and looked like an ordinary white-collar worker. But he still had a strong presence about him.
“Well, if it isn’t Munechika?” Andou said, greeting the man. “Here for dinner?”
“Yeah,” the man answered. “Kaname said this was a good restaurant and brought me here.”
“I see,” Andou said. “Mr. Kaname is here too.” Behind the man was a slim young man to whom Andou gave a nod. It was the man who had been wearing the black suit. Today he was in gray.
The man called Kaname gave his respects. “I haven’t spoken with you in a while. I’m glad to see that you’re looking well.” It looked like he was Munechika’s secretary or in a position similar to it.
“Yes, we’re leaving now anyway,” Andou said. “Thank you for taking the trouble to come to the office the other day.”
Munechika laughed and said it was nothing. He had apparently been visiting Andou that day.
“If there is anything I can do, please don’t hesitate to let me know,” he said.
“Yes, thank you again,” Andou said, cutting the conversation short, perhaps concerned that he was making Shiiba wait.
Following behind Andou, Shiiba also nodded as he passed Munechika. But suddenly, his arm was grabbed from behind, holding him back.
“Be careful with Andou.” To Shiiba’s amazement, the familiar words resounded quietly in his ear. Those words. That voice. It couldn’t be.
This was the mysterious man from the phone call...
When Shiiba opened his mouth to say something, Munechika quickly released him and hurried past. As Shiiba stared behind him, Andou turned around suspiciously.
“Mr. Shibano? Is something wrong?” he inquired.
“No,” Shiiba replied and caught up with Andou.
After dealing with the bill they got into the car. Inside, Shiiba asked Andou, “Who was that guy just now?”
“Mr. Munechika? He is the organization’s assistant,” Andou replied as he pulled out of the parking lot.
Shiiba knew now that the man was indeed Yakuza.
“He runs a business, so he’s not like the others,” Andou continued explaining. “Same as myself. He has quite a lot of power in the group.”
A Yakuza employed in the same group as Andou. Why had he come to meet him? And why the advice?
“Mr. Munechika was a senior in my school,” Andou said. “We used to do stupid stuff together. A year before I lost Kaori, we met again in Kabuki-cho by coincidence, and we started up an acquaintance again. He was the one who invited me to the Matsukura Group. You used to have to pay protection money to the Yakuza, but as I had businesses in Kabuki-cho, he suggested that I affiliate myself and get the support of the group instead.”
In Kabuki-cho, there were various forms of protection money, and sometimes it could cause some complications. A businessman affiliated to gang members made business that much easier.
“He was the child of the former president’s lover,” Andou revealed.
“So he will take over?” Shiiba asked.
“No, that position is intended for the president’s son by his official wife, so Munechika was pushed aside,” Andou said. “The thing is that the new president is a young and spoiled child, so I think that the members of the organization will want Munechika to succeed instead. I have the same opinion. Munechika is smart and has composure.”
Shiiba could tell that behind the words was Andou’s trust in Munechika. He thought back to the image he had of Munechika just now.
The man looked strong. A man of stormy good looks. With eyes that looked like they could see through anything. His smile was cynical. Just recalling him inexplicably made Shiiba feel on his guard.
The car stopped at a red light. Looking at the taillights of the car in front, Shiiba muttered to himself, “I don’t like that man.”
Andou heard Shiiba and turned to him, interested.
“That’s odd,” he said. “You never say whether you like or dislike a person.”
“Really?” Shiiba asked, genuinely surprised.
“Yes,” Andou said. “That’s the first time I’ve heard you say something like that.”
It was true that Shiiba rarely expressed his opinions or evaluations of other people. But he genuinely did not like that Munechika. There was no logic to it. There was just something about the man.
That man was dangerous, he felt. Shiiba needed to be careful.
Inside Shiiba’s head, a red warning light was silently flashing.
Chapter 3
A black Benz pulled up right in front of Shiiba. The driver politely opened the back door with a white-gloved hand. The person who got out was a well-known politician who was frequently seen on TV. The man disappeared into the famous traditional restaurant.
At nighttime, the leaders of government and financial circles came and went along a small alley that joined Akasaka and Tameikesanou. In a short while, the narrow street would be filled with black cars. Shiiba’s eyes came to rest on the restaurant. He generally didn’t like high-class restaurants because he couldn’t relax in them, but this one looked cozy and had a likeable unpretentiousness about it.
Entering the restaurant through the wicket door, he found himself surrounded by waitresses wearing matching pretty kimonos, brightly welcoming him in.
“Your brother-in-law is already here,” one of them said.
Shiiba simply replied, “I see,” to the smiling girl. He had left early to make sure that he could arrive before the agreed time, but it seemed he’d still been outdone. That alone depressed him.
The waitress told him that Shinozuka was in the usual room, so he declined being shown the way and went there himself. In front of the sliding door, he re-adjusted his tie. He wasn’t in his usual flashy outfit, but in a more standard fitted three-buttoned suit. His hair, which was usually unruly, was now neatly combed.
He called out that he was coming in and opened the door. Sitting there was his brother-in-law, Hideyuki Shinozuka, who was helping himself to some sake.
Shiiba was mesmerized for an instant by the intellectual and clever profile that he hadn’t seen in a while. Shiiba secretly thought to himself that there wasn’t anyone else upon whom frameless glasses looked as good as on this man.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” he said by way of greeting.
“No, I’m early,” Shinozuka replied. “Don’t worry.”
Shinozuka took off his suit jacket and then sat down cross-legged on the floor. Even in this relaxed pose, he still managed to retain an air of refinement.
Sitting opposite, Shiiba asked how Shinozuka was while the other man poured sake onto a small cup. Shiiba accepted the glass and lifted it to his lips, but couldn’t taste the alcohol properly. He was always nervous around Shinozuka.
“I’m sorry that I never returned any of your phone calls,” he said.
Shinozuka had left messages on his answering machine, but he had been so busy he hadn’t gotten around to dealing with them. He had thought that his brother-in-law might be angry, but Shinozuka gently smiled and shook his head.
“It’s fine,” he said. “I know that you’re very busy.”
When his older sister, Yukari, had just passed away, Shiiba still managed to meet up with Shinozuka every two or three months. Having lost their official relationship as brothers-in-law, Shiiba had thought their relationship strangely ambiguous. Since they had lost that person who had made them related, they were really nothing more than strangers now. But their connection had still not been cut. It was a strange relationship.
“Actually, I have an announcement. I’m being transferred within the Metropolitan Police,” Shinozuka said off-handedly, extending his chopsticks out to one of the dishes that had been brought in. He was talking about the police force that had autonomous control over the Tokyo area and functioned to oversee police forces in other areas. All career track civil servants in the police services were first employed by the Metropolitan force. They would later be sent out to one of the other regions.
“Where in the force?” Shiiba asked.
“Planning Unit of the Security Bureau,” Shinozuka replied. “I’m going to be a director.”
Shiiba nodded and moved his chopsticks. He didn’t know what to say. He understood that to be moved to the Planning Unit of the Security Bureau in the Metropolitan Police was a step forward career-wise, but Shinozuka was still only 36. He thought that at that age, it might be too early for Shinozuka to be put in such a role.
The Metropolitan Security Bureau was the base for all public security management across the country. Beginning with the Metropolitan Public Security section, all the detectives in Public Security across the country monitored and gathered information on groups that were involved in extreme acts of criminality or political crimes. Because he worked in intelligence, Shiiba had often cooperated with them, but they went to incomparable extremes. They were a group specializing in bugging and infiltration methods. They would often conduct secret surveillance that would never be made public, much like a secret police.
One theory was that the Metropolitan Public Security Bureau’s Planning Unit was the control tower for all of the S operations done by the Public Security sections across the country. The nature of the highly confidential material that was gathered meant that they would only hire the most capable man as unit director, as that person was effectively going to control the organization.
“You’ll be busy soon too,” Shiiba said.
“Civil servants never have free time,” Shinozuka agreed, smiling quietly.
Even though Shinozuka had managed to jump ahead of so many men who had started their careers at the same time as him, there wasn’t even the slightest speck of aggressiveness or arrogance in his manner. Probably for Shinozuka, all of these posts were just stepping-stones for him. That was the terrifying thing. Shinozuka was going to climb to the top of the police organization, all the while with that sedate smile of his.
“I didn’t come to talk about me today, though. I have something I need to tell you,” Shinozuka confessed. Adjusting his legs, he said, “Masaki, why don’t you take the government exam again next year?”
Shiiba was taken aback by this unexpected request.
Shinozuka continued. “Seven years ago, I know that you wanted to work in the field as a police officer and not in an office where you couldn’t investigate. But, haven’t you had enough? You must be satisfied by now. Please, it’s time to think of your future.”
“What do you mean?” Shiiba asked, then added, “I plan to keep working as a detective.”
His expression hardened. He had a feeling that Shinozuka disagreed with his life choices.
“You are an excellent person,” Shinozuka said. “You got top marks in the government exam and you graduated from the Police Academy. As a detective, you have had great success. But those abilities would be much better served and would develop further in the organization. I have always thought that. You are too good a man. You should leave detective work behind you now.”
Shinozuka said those words quietly, but there was a surprising strength in his tone. He was saying what he really thought. Shiiba was perplexed.
“Won’t you quit the Metropolitan and go back to studying?” Shinozuka urged. “If you started preparing now, you’ll be able to pass next year’s exam.”
“I can’t,” Shiiba said after a pause. “Even if I did pass, I wouldn’t be employed by the Metropolitan.”
In reality, whether you were to be employed was decided before the interview. In an attempt to make the process fairer, the authorities had started making the final results public after the interview day. But that now meant that test results weren’t even considered anymore. It wasn’t based on how smart you were; it was about which university you went to. For people like Shiiba, there was no way they could compete with the Tokyo University students. Not when there were so few places in the Metropolitan.
“You don’t have to worry about that,” Shinozuka said. “True, it’s unheard of for a detective who has had experience in the field to take the test again to get on the career track, but I heard that the chief said that he wanted to try something new.”
Shiiba’s face tensed up without him realizing it. Shinozuka could only mean the police chief. The Metropolitan chief stood at the top of 2,070,000 people. Shiiba was struck with awe that Shinozuka now held political sway with someone so high up.
“If you hadn’t lost Yukari then you would have been well on your way in a career,” Shinozuka said. “Don’t you think it’s time now to get back to your original course? You don’t want to let it pass you by.”
Shiiba clenched his fists that rested on his knees. Shinozuka was looking for an answer. Shiiba could simply reject him, but considering that Shinozuka was concerned for his welfare, the words wouldn’t come out.
“Let me think about it,” he finally replied.
“All right,” Shinozuka said. “I hope for a positive answer. Maybe you can follow in my footsteps.”
Realizing that he didn’t have to give an answer straight away, Shiiba took a deep breath and relaxed. But he was immediately disgusted with himself. Even though he liked to think of himself as a loner, he still couldn’t just reject Shinozuka outright.
When dinner was over, they left the restaurant together. Heading out to the street, Shinozuka hailed a taxi.
“I still have some work to do,” Shinozuka explained. “I’m going to go back to Kasumigaseki. Masaki, visit me anytime. You’re always welcome.”
Shinozuka lived alone in a residence in Hanzoumon. When Yukari was alive, they had gone out at night countless times.
“Thank you so much. If I have a chance I’ll come over,” Shiiba replied rather stiffly and looked at Shinozuka with sad eyes. There was a slight stabbing pain in his chest. They could no longer meet so innocently like they used to. It just wasn’t possible anymore.
He sat in the back seat and opened the window.
Shinozuka bent down to whisper to him, “You are so much like Yukari. It always makes me feel sad when I look at you.”
Shiiba didn’t fully understand the meaning of the words, but because the driver said that he was starting the car, he bowed his head as low as he could. As the car pulled away, he watched as Shinozuka disappeared into the background.
When he could no longer see Shinozuka, Shiiba rested back on the seat and let out a deep sigh. When he thought of Shinozuka, it was with conflict in his heart. Repulsion and aspiration. Dislike and respect. All these emotions mixed together. When he looked into those appraising eyes, he wished in his heart that he could be like Shinozuka.
His sister had been a high school teacher when a friend had introduced her and Shinozuka to each other. They dated for a year, and when Shiiba was in his third year of university, they were married. His sister’s marriage was something that had been very welcome to him. His father, who was a police officer, had lost his life when Shiiba had been young. Then, the siblings also lost their mother to cancer when Shiiba was in high school. His older sister, who was four years older than him, became his only family.
At first, Shiiba had greatly admired his brother-in-law who had graduated from the same university and worked at the Metropolitan Police force. It was because of his admiration for Shinozuka that he had revised his original plan of aiming for the Ministry of Finance and changed to the Metropolitan route. But four years later, straight after passing the government civil servant examination, something had happened to change his mind.
The tragedy had happened when Yukari was walking down Keihana road. A stray bullet fired by a gang member hit Yukari in the skull. It was just bad luck.
The media had played up the story that the wife of a currently serving police worker had been killed, caught up in an ongoing conflict between rival crime organizations.
The Metropolitan department spear-headed a huge search for the culprit. After three days a man had appeared claiming to have done the crime, and the matter had been resolved a little too quickly.
One of the tabloid newspapers had run a story stating that the person who claimed to be the criminal wasn’t the real culprit, and that the person who had in fact fired the shot was the son of the head of a particular crime organization. Several innocent citizens had been caught up in that gang feud and paid with their lives. The fight broke out between a couple of domestic crime syndicates and if it had been prolonged any longer, there were fears that even more tragedies would occur. According to the newspaper report, the police had desperately wanted to end the war and the crime organization had not wanted the boss’s son apprehended, so the two had come to an agreement behind closed doors.
The report had been easily written off as tabloid nonsense. Shiiba had asked Shinozuka what had really happened. He had heard that a gangster taking the fall for his superiors was not uncommon, and if the real person responsible for his sister’s death was still living a normal life, then he could never forgive that.
Shinozuka had told him that there had been no mistakes made in the police reports and that Shiiba shouldn’t listen to the exaggerated reports in the media. But Shinozuka had said this with a fixed expression that looked as if he was hiding something. Shiiba knew that Shinozuka himself had doubts about the handling of the case. So he had repeatedly asked that the police re-open the case, re-investigate, and for his sister, discover the truth. However, Shinozuka had just shaken his head and not heard Shiiba’s pleas.
“Why? You’re a policeman…Please, for the truth, re-open the case.”
“Masaki, people who are employed as part of the police organization are still just officials. We don’t have the right to just choose what is and isn’t investigated like that.”
He understood Shinozuka’s position. He understood it, but he couldn’t accept it. If it were Shiiba, he would have found a way, no matter what the obstacles were. He wanted to find out the truth for his most beloved innocent sister who had been so unnecessarily murdered. Not as a police officer, but as a man.
Despair turned his vision black, but his disappointment in Shinozuka still shone like a bright light. Shiiba felt knocked down and could only rage at his own impotence.
Because of that, Shiiba had decided to not enter the Metropolitan force. Shinozuka and the other employees at the Metropolitan tried to change his mind, but he ignored them all. Perhaps it was because he resented Shinozuka. Shinozuka was wrong. Shiiba didn’t need a career. He hated crime. He hated the guns that had stolen his sister from him.
So he had chosen a path, which wouldn’t give him a career, but where he could actively prevent crime. He became a nameless police officer.
That will and the hatred towards the murky criminal world were what drove Shiiba on. Not a beautiful high and mighty concept of justice. That he was sure of.
As soon as he got out of the taxi at the Setagaya, which was where he lived, the cell phone in his pocket rang. On the display it said that it was a call from Takasaki, his boss.
Answering the phone, he immediately sensed the panic in Takasaki’s voice as the man asked, “Where are you?”
“At home,” Shiiba replied. “What happened?”
“It’s bad,” Takasaki said. “Andou is dead.”
Upon hearing the unbelievable news, Shiiba was at a loss for words.
“Dead…what do you mean?” he finally asked.
“He’s been killed,” Takasaki explained. “I heard it from another unit. You had put in the system that Andou was under investigation. The body has already been taken in for an autopsy.”
Andou had been killed…
The worst imaginable news. Shiiba’s head was in confusion when he asked Takasaki, “Who was it? Who did it?”
“We haven’t caught him yet,” Takasaki said. “According to the witness statement of someone named Nishi, Andou was attacked suddenly when he got out of the car. The other team has some stuff that they want to ask you so can you come to the Shinjuku station?”
“Yes, I’m heading there now.” Shiiba continued talking as he walked towards the station. “Do we have any potential culprits?”
“No, they don’t know anything yet,” Takasaki said. “It’s just that Andou’s men said that it may be a Chinese man.”
“Chinese…?” Shiiba stopped in his tracks. A cold sensation filled his chest.
“When he was attacked, apparently the attacker screamed something in Chinese,” Takasaki said. “Right after that, the shots were fired so Nishi didn’t get a good look at the culprit’s face.”
“Shots…Andou was shot dead?” Shiiba asked.
“Yes, in the head and chest, he died almost instantly.”
A Chinese man. A gun. These familiar keywords shot through all of Shiiba’s thought processes. Could it be what Shiiba thought? That there had been some kind of trouble between Andou and Ying Fa Lin and that was why he’d been killed?
“I’ll see you at the Shinjuku station. I’ll be there A.S.A.P.”
He hung up. His legs wouldn’t move, it was as if they’d been tied together. Still clutching the cell phone in his hand, he looked up into the night sky, stunned.
Clutching a bag in his arms, Nishi jumped up upon seeing Shiiba.
“Nishi, are you all right? Are you hurt?” Shiiba inquired immediately.
Other members of the family, including Yumi and Toshiaki, were in Andou’s office. There was an indescribable atmosphere of pain among the seated people.
“I’m fine. The boss, Mr. Andou, he…” Nishi couldn’t finish his words.
Shiiba patted him on the back. Upon seeing the shock and confusion caused by Andou’s murder, Shiiba couldn’t find the words to console him.
Nishi had phoned when Shiiba was explaining everything he knew about Andou’s business dealings to a Shinjuku detective. Pretending that he had just heard the tragic news about Andou, Shiiba had gone straight away to the office, and then to Kabuki-cho.
“It’s terrible,” Shiiba murmured. “I still can’t believe it.”
“How could this happen…” Nishi said. “He was such a good man…”
Seeing the grown man cry, the other people started to sniff too. Shiiba was also sad, but he wasn’t in the mood to cry with others over his pain. It was possibly because Andou was an S that he was murdered.
“Who was it that shot Andou?” he asked. “They were saying it might be a Chinese man.”
“As soon as he got out of the car, he heard someone shout in Chinese,” Nishi managed to explain. “He didn’t have time to turn around before he was shot in the back, so I never saw the man’s face. Of course, there is a possibility that the culprit was Chinese, but that’s not definite. Mr. Shibano, what are we going to do from now on?”
Shiiba shook Nishi’s shoulders. Nishi’s face was full of fear and worry. Now that Andou was gone, only Nishi could run the organization.
“The shops all have their own managers,” Shiiba said. “Leave them to run everything as usual. It would be best to stop all the background activities for now. The police are going to be looking around. Take care of anything that you don’t want them to see around here.”
“That’s all fine,” Nishi said. “Last week, the boss moved everything to a safe place.”
Andou had done just as Shiiba had suggested when they had thought that a drug official might be following Andou. Perhaps this stalker was linked to Andou’s death. Shiiba hid from his expression the fear that he had for himself.
“The Matsukura Group, we should let them know too?” Nishi asked. “I haven’t contacted them yet.”
It was important that this was done properly. Nishi would naturally shy away from all that, not being familiar with the gangs himself.
“That’s right,” Shiiba agreed. “They’ve always helped out, we should let them know.”
“But I don’t know the group well enough,” Nishi said. “I only know Munechika.”
Shiiba frowned. “Munechika? I met him once too. Does that yakuza come here often?”
“No,” Nishi said. “Only a few times. I’ve only spoken a few words to him, but he was a childhood friend of the boss’.”
“Yes, I knew Andou for a long time,” a new voice from behind said.
Shiiba swung around in surprise. Munechika stood at the door in a black double-breasted suit. Shiiba had no idea when the man had come. Behind him was Kaname.
Nishi was also surprised at Munechika’s sudden appearance. His eyes opened wide.
“Your name is Nishi, right?” Munechika inquired.
“Ah, yes,” Nishi replied.
“I will let the organization know,” Munechika said. “If there are any problems, don’t go to the organization, come directly to me. I will do my best.”
Munechika gave over his business card, in a relaxed style.
Nishi accepted it. “Thank you so much,” he said, bowing.
“Andou’s body?” Munechika asked.
“It’s in autopsy,” Nishi replied.
“Being cut up. Terrible,” Munechika whispered. “If his body comes back, let me know.” Then in the same way as he had come, he suddenly left the office.
Shiiba flew out into the corridor to follow him.
“Wait,” he called out.
Munechika slowly turned around. But before Shiiba could get a word in, Munechika spoke.
“I told you to be careful with Andou,” he hissed. “You should listen to advice.”
Munechika looked at Shiiba with a glare that could cut the air. Shiiba drew in a deep breath. He finally understood the meaning behind those words. Munechika had not been saying that Andou would betray Shiiba, but the man had been letting him know that there was a lot of danger facing Andou.
“You…you know something!” Shiiba exclaimed. “You know who killed Andou?” He grabbed the other man violently, but Munechika was unperturbed and only looked down at him. “Who is it? If you know, tell me! Who was following Andou? Who murdered him?”
“Is that how you should ask someone?” Munechika asked. He shook off Shiiba’s arms, slightly annoyed. “You’re just a little baby lost in a world you know nothing of. Or, maybe a little girl?” he scoffed. Then he drew his face close to Shiiba’s. “I know who killed Andou. If you want me to tell you who it is, then it is going to take more than information. Do you understand?”
Munechika was asking for money. The lowest of the low. Shiiba despised him internally.
“How much do you want?” he asked through clenched teeth.
“As if I needed money,” Munechika sneered.
This sudden reply made Shiiba raise his eyebrows. Then what the hell did Munechika want?
“You,” Munechika said.
“What…?” Shiiba asked.
“You’re not very bright, are you?” Munechika mocked. “I want you. You look so clean, you must know how to please a man.”
The words were making no sense to Shiiba, so he pushed the man away. Munechika slapped him lightly on the cheek.
“You piece of shit…” Shiiba growled.
Munechika didn’t budge an inch. Instead, a thin smile crept over his lips.
“Hard-nosed little girl,” he said.
“STOP!” Shiiba yelled.
Even under Shiiba’s harsh glare, Munechika looked down at him, relaxed. He almost seemed fascinated by Shiiba’s rage.
Kaname got into the elevator. Holding the button, he waited for Munechika.
“I’ll keep the information,” Munechika said. “So if you want it, come over to my house, anytime.”
Munechika pushed Shiiba aside and then got into the elevator too.
Shiiba swore at his back. “Like I’d ever want that! You’re a sick bastard!”
There was no reply and Munechika disappeared behind the elevator’s doors. That jeering smile stayed on his face until the end.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” Oosako said, hurrying into the café they had arranged to meet at. He bowed his head in apology.
“I only just got here too,” Shiiba said.
Oosako laughed at him, calling him a liar. There was no point trying to assure the man. The ashtray was already full of ash.
“No, I’ve really only been here a while,” Shiiba insisted.
Oosako observed that he was smoking a lot more and Shiiba put out the cigarette. The truth was that he had been waiting for over 30 minutes, but he didn’t want to make Oosako feel bad for his tardiness since the man had come all the way from Ichigaya.
It was a café in the basement of a building on Sotobori Street. It was a gloomy little café with a very dimly lit interior. There was one other customer who looked like a middle-aged white-collar worker. The man was sitting near the entrance and was reading a weekly, looking like he was going to fall asleep at any moment. It wasn’t popular, but that made it a good place to talk, as they were unlikely to be overheard.
A cantankerous old man took Oosako’s order.
“I’m sorry to call you to a place like this,” Shiiba said.
Asking for coffee, Oosako shook his head, saying that it wasn’t a problem.
“People may recognize us in Shinjuku, so that’s why I asked you here,” Shiiba explained, continuing with the formalities. Then he took a brown envelope that was offered to him. Opening it, he took out Munechika’s background report written in Oosako’s familiar scrawl.
Oosako listed off what was written. “Keigo Munechika. 32. Up and coming young businessman. Legitimate businesses are real estate, IT, and imports. In the background, as you know, he has an important position in the Matsukura Group. According to inside information from the group, it seems that he is also the illegitimate child of the previous president.”
“I heard that too,” Shiiba murmured. “His half-brother inherited the group, didn’t he?”
“The formal wife’s child is 25 or 26,” Oosako said. “After the death of his father, they had someone else stand in to handle operations. It sounds like he didn’t actually succeed his father until last year. There are a lot of bloodthirsty men in Shinjuku. The young president couldn’t really handle the organization. However, back to Munechika. There are a lot of mysteries surrounding him. When he was young, there was a time when he lived with his father, but for some reason, he wasn’t publicly acknowledged, and doesn’t carry the Matsukura name. After graduating high school, he left home and seemed to have not been part of the organized crime scene during that time. Four years later, he suddenly re-appeared as a businessman involved with the Matsukura Group. He seems to have acquired quite a lot of money now.”
The coffee came, so Oosako stopped talking for a moment.
“He is certainly one tough customer,” Shiiba said, nodding. “I asked the data center for his crime record, but he doesn’t have one.”
“So he’s cautious,” Oosako said. “Because he’s just a member, he hasn’t stepped out onto the organization’s main stage. According to his gangster colleagues, he’s not entirely devoted to illegitimate business causes. What do you want with Munechika?”
Shiiba was hesitant, not knowing how he should answer. But perhaps Oosako could help him out again later. Shiiba checked to see that there was no one listening. Oosako also had experience with undercover operations so he understood the difficult position that Shiiba was in.
“The other day, someone was killed,” he whispered. “It was Andou, who ran the bathhouses.”
“Oh, that,” Oosako said. “They still haven’t caught who did it.”
It had been over a week since Andou’s death, and there had still been no progress with the investigation. Shiiba’s frustration had only increased.
“Andou was my S,” Shiiba admitted after a pause.
With the cup to his lips, Oosako looked up surprised.
“I see,” he murmured. “That is unfortunate. But what does Munechika have to do with this?”
“I don’t know,” Shiiba said. “But I think he knows something.”
He didn’t say that Andou may have lost his life because he was an S.
That night, he had met with Takasaki and told him that he couldn’t tell the detectives of Unit 1 that Andou had been meeting with Lin. Takasaki also suspected that Lin was involved in Andou’s murder. Even if Lin wasn’t the person who did it, if Unit 1’s detectives started sniffing around, then the man would likely flee. And because to COC5 the disclosure of gun trafficking routes was more important than a murder, the actual arrest would fall to Unit 1.
“Murder is Unit 1’s job, isn’t it?” Oosako objected with a pained face. He gulped down his coffee. “I understand your frustration, but you shouldn’t just go around doing what you want. Leave it alone.”
“Yes,” Shiiba said.
Although he agreed, Shiiba still felt uneasy in his heart. He needed to know the truth about Andou’s murder. Even if he couldn’t investigate, he wanted to have the truth now. Who killed Andou? Was it because he was an S? What had he done? Why…
A burning pain shot through his body. Not a single muscle could relax.
There was only one person who knew the truth. That man was Keigo Munechika.
Chapter 4
Keigo Munechika smiled arrogantly. However many times Shiiba saw that face, he couldn’t get used to it.
“Thank you,” Munechika drawled.
Behind him, Kaname said a quick word then turned on his heels. Shiiba was left alone in the entrance hall and Munechika nodded for him to come in. Following Munechika, Shiiba stepped into the room.
It was a spacious living room. The decorations were well designed and expensive looking. It was a polished place to the point of being unnatural, like it had never been used. It didn’t feel like anyone actually lived there. It was like a model home, built to be admired.
Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, you could see Tokyo Tower lit up, but Shiiba was not in the mood to enjoy the spectacular night view.
Munechika’s residence was in Roppongi Hills. Shiiba had called the number on the business card that Munechika had left with Nishi. Munechika himself had not picked up. The man who was his secretary, Kaname, had answered the call. Shiiba had said that he wanted to meet with Munechika, and Kaname had, in the next hour, sent a car to pick him up from Shinjuku.
“You have an excellent man there,” Shiiba said.
“Kaname? He is my most valuable asset,” Munechika replied.
Shiiba felt that he understood Munechika’s words. Kaname didn’t talk too much, but he always answered correctly. He didn’t look that much different in age from Shiiba, but his calmness made him seem a lot older.
With his hands still thrust into the pockets of his fake fur coat, Shiiba proceeded to the back of the room and, without permission, sat down on the sofa. It was a large sofa with leather upholstery and was soft and comfortable to sit on.
“Something to drink?” Munechika offered.
“I’m fine,” Shiiba said.
He didn’t come here for a friendly drink. Shiiba had only one purpose.
“Who killed Andou?” he demanded straight away. “Tell me.”
Munechika remained standing. He looked down at Shiiba.
“Still rude,” he said. “When you ask someone something, you should at least say please.”
“This isn’t a request,” Shiiba said. “This is a transaction. We are on even ground.”
Munechika raised one eyebrow, trying to guess Shiiba’s meaning.
“Then you are ready to service me then?” he asked.
Irritated, Shiiba stayed silent, but reluctantly nodded. He didn’t want to speak too much. If he chatted, then that would only increase his misery.
He had hesitated and tormented himself. But the overwhelming desire to obtain the truth had brought him here. He had convinced himself that he could give himself to a man, and decided to meet with Munechika.
“I have no intention of spending time over this transaction,” he said. “Let’s begin.”
Seeing Shiiba starting to take off his coat, Munechika smiled. “An impatient guy…well, fine with me. Come here.”
The place that Munechika indicated was, as expected, the bedroom, which was ridiculously large. Walking into the center of the room, Shiiba saw a king-sized bed. Seeing what was decorating the wall, he stopped.
In a glass case were displayed guns. A Walther, Browning Hi-Power, Colt Government, Beretta, Magnum, Tokarev, Desert Eagle. All the famous brands were displayed all across the wall.
“They’re not the real things, are they?” he asked.
Munechika replied, “Of course not.”
“They say to hide a leaf, put it in a forest,” Shiiba quoted.
“Don’t worry,” Munechika said. “They’re all model guns.”
“You like guns?” Shiiba asked.
“No, they were all given to me by a friend,” Munechika clarified. “I thought they’d make interesting decorations. I don’t usually take an interest in such playthings, but they’re still very elaborate. Here, what do you think of this one?” Munechika opened the glass door and took one out. “Look. This Beretta, it’s some workmanship.”
It was a Pietro Beretta M92. Italian made. A manual 9mm. It was widely used across the world by police and armed forces, and was standard issue for the American army.
Munechika slowly raised the gun grasped in his right hand, aiming it at Shiiba’s nose. Even if it was a fake, he couldn’t help but be a little bit worried.
“Well, shall we start this transaction?” Munechika said. “I said in the beginning, you are not in charge. The information will come at the end.”
Not understanding, Shiiba frowned. “What do you mean?”
Munechika smiled, then pushed the Beretta against Shiiba’s cheek. “I want to enjoy myself. I want to spend as much time as it takes to be satisfied, then I will give you the information. Take off your clothes and lie down.”
Shiiba controlled himself. He would give his body to this man. For a little while, he would let Munechika do what he wanted. That’s how he had to think about it. Of course, he really didn’t want to let this man enjoy himself on him.
Munechika was now stroking Shiiba’s cheek with the cold hard pistol. Perhaps because of the coldness of the metal, a shiver ran through Shiiba’s body.
“Seems you’re not into this,” Munechika said. “If you don’t want to, then you can go home.”
The man was trying to provoke him. The urge to react was strong, and when Shiiba moved his face, the Beretta was right in front of his eyes. He opened his lips and slowly started to lick along the shaft of the pistol. The uncomfortable taste of metal filled his mouth, but ignoring that, he took the mouth of the pistol into his own and sucked on it.
Taking the pistol away, Munechika whispered gently to him, “Is this how you treat your own Beretta?” Then he suddenly started to shake with laughter. It seems that Shiiba’s sudden actions had been amusing. “Unfortunately, I’m no Beretta, I’m a Magnum,” he said.
Ignoring the slimy line, Shiiba asked him, “Do you like men?”
“No,” Munechika readily replied. “I’m not turned on by men usually. But I am interested in you. It’s because you were the one that that square Andou loved. When did you become Andou’s woman?”
It was strange that Munechika had such a strong conviction to ask. Shiiba didn’t think Andou would have said that.
“I wasn’t Andou’s ‘woman,’” he explained. “We didn’t have that kind of relationship, ever.”
“Liar. Andou was obsessed with you,” Munechika said.
“I’m not lying,” Shiiba said. “This is the truth. There was nothing between Andou and me. Really.”
“Then, there were men other than Andou?” Munechika probed.
Enraged that Munechika had decided that Shiiba must be gay, it took all he had to just quietly shake his head.
“I’m straight,” he said. “I’ve never even thought of being with a man before.”
Munechika was silent for a few moments and then suddenly threw the Beretta he’d been holding down on the bed and muttered that this was boring.
“If you weren’t Andou’s woman then I don’t want it anymore,” he said. “Go home.”
The one panicked now was Shiiba. He still hadn’t found out who had killed Andou.
“Wait,” he said. “You wanted me here! The deal!”
“There is no deal,” Munechika said. “An innocent boy isn’t going to be fun. I’m not interested in virgins. Unripe fruit is never sweet enough for me.”
As Munechika tried to leave the room, Shiiba threw himself against the man. This was a joke. He couldn’t have come all this way to be simply rejected.
“Don’t play with me!” he yelled. “You said we had a deal! Just because you made a mistake with the relationship Andou and I had…you have to stick to the deal.”
Munechika looked down at Shiiba who was now showing a mixture of rage and desperation. Letting out a slight sigh, he said, “Fine. I was the one who said it. I’ll keep my promise. Hurry up and begin. Take off your clothes and sit on the bed. Look at me, and then jerk yourself off. When you’re done, I’ll tell you what you want to know. You have 10 minutes. Get to it.”
Shiiba took in the rapid orders.
Giving Shiiba a sideway glance, Munechika sat down heavily on the sofa. He was going to watch from there.
“Time is ticking. Go.”
Munechika crossed his long legs. He seemed tired of this.
Shiiba bit down on his lip. He had to do it.
Dropping his coat to the floor, he took off his black turtleneck. But, when he pulled down his pants, his hands hesitated on his underwear.
“Don’t rush it,” Munechika said. “Enjoy it.”
His face was flushed with embarrassment, but pushing the doubt down, Shiiba took off the last item of clothing.
Munechika’s words were ridiculing him. Shiiba looked up, resolution so apparent on his face that it could almost be considered defiance. He didn’t feel shame. And even if he did, he wasn’t going to show it in front of this man.
“Sit facing me,” Munechika ordered. “Open your legs a little more. That’s right.”
He sat facing Munechika on the bed. Then, he took his member and started rubbing it roughly. But, in his current state of rage, there was no way that he was going to manage an erection. The male organ was delicate. And pleasuring yourself in front of a complete stranger wasn’t going to be exciting unless you were really perverted.
“What’s the matter?” Munechika taunted. “Can’t get it up? You’ll run out of time.”