A Dog in Water (15 page)

A thought occurred to him. “When my time is up, will the one coming for me be the guy who killed Junko Tajima?”

“Yeah …” Yano suddenly looked ill-tempered. Apparently this wasn’t a subject he wanted to discuss.

“Is his name Yang, by any chance?”

Now Yano looked surprised. “You know him?”

“We met just once. He gave me some good advice.”

“Oh, so you were acquainted …” Yano dropped his gaze and chewed on his lip.

“He’s not the type to give a damn, though,” the detective noted with a faint smile.

I see. So it is him. If I’ve still got bullets to spare when he comes for me, maybe it’s worth flailing around a bit first
.

As these thoughts filled his mind, he saw the Benz pull out of the garage.

There was a fair amount of traffic on Kanpachi Avenue, considering the late hour. The detective tailed the Benz from a few cars behind. They were driving back in the direction from which they’d come making for Takeda’s house. The detective wondered if Kanemitsu had called Takeda out to the ironworks.

No, that didn’t make sense. No matter how far gone he was, Kanemitsu wouldn’t dare return to a spot where the police could barge in
at any moment. He’d probably chosen a hiding place not far from the ironworks to avoid driving around in a stolen vehicle.

The two cars crossed from Setagaya into Ohta. After they continued driving for a while, the Benz turned on its right directional and turned at the intersection at Shimomaruko station. The detective followed. There were far fewer cars on that street, and none between the Benz and the Hyundai. The detective slowed down to let distance spool out between them and keep Takeda unaware of his tail.

They passed over the gas-pipeline bridge that spanned the Tama River and entered Kanagawa. If they continued on this street they’d head right into the New Tsurumi Rail Yards. Beyond that lay major corporate factories. Just as the detective wondered how far they were going, the Benz put on its left directional. The taillights went diagonal then vanished. The detective stepped on the gas.

The Benz had disappeared into a small office building. All the lights were off in the windows, but there was a 24-hour parking garage underneath. The sloped entrance had two lanes heading straight inside, one for entering and the other for exiting vehicles.

Kanemitsu had to be down there. The detective parked the Hyundai sideways to block both lanes and got out of the car. Yano stepped out of the passenger’s side.

“No,” said the detective.

Yano spun around. “What?”

“You’ve been a great help, done enough.”

“You think I’m useless now?” Yano snarled, his right eye still swollen shut.

“This is something I need to do, not you.”

“…”

“But if you could prevent any cars from entering or leaving, I’d appreciate it.”

The detective headed down the ramp. Yano clucked his tongue and trudged unwillingly back to the Hyundai and sat in the driver’s seat.

Kanemitsu could see the Benz coming down the passage. He turned on the BMW’s headlights. The Benz saw the headlights, pulled up in front of the BMW and came to a stop in the passageway. Takeda stepped out of the driver’s side, leather satchel in hand.

“Give Takashi back!”

Kanemitsu got out of the BMW. He held a Glock in his right hand. The strip of cloth that had been used to blindfold the boy now covered the lower part of Kanemitsu’s face, making him look like a stagecoach robber from an old Western.

“Toss the bag!”

“Let Takashi go! You get the money after he goes free!” Takeda showed no sign of ceding. He couldn’t hide his impatience, but his eyes held force.

Kanemitsu smirked beneath his makeshift mask. Without looking away from Takeda, he opened the back door of the BMW and dragged out the boy. Yoichi, his body slack against the seat, looked on with vacant eyes.

“Takashi!” cried Takeda as soon as he saw his son.

The boy’s hands were bound, and he was gagged with a torn, blood-soaked T-shirt. He ran towards his father. Kanemitsu made no move to stop him. Takeda dropped the satchel on the ground and reached out for his son with wide open arms. Joy spread across the man’s features, and he fell to his knees, clutching the boy to him with both arms.

“Takashi, you were so brave, my good boy.” Tears spilled from Takeda’s eyes. The boy nuzzled his chest and sobbed.

Kanemitsu crept closer to the pair, gun dangling at his side. “Happy now?”

Takeda looked up at him, apparently having forgotten that they still had unfinished business.

“Get your kid in the car, now,” Kanemitsu said.

Takeda rushed his son into the back seat of the Benz, closed the door and turned back to face Kanemitsu. He looked like he could hardly believe he’d gotten his son back so easily.

“Open the bag and show me the money.”

Takeda nodded at his words and spread the bag wide open. Bundles of ten thousand-yen notes were packed tightly inside. Takeda picked up several bundles and flipped through them to show they were genuine.

Kanemitsu was satisfied. He didn’t have the time to make sure there was in fact two hundred million, but it certainly looked like enough. He started to feel high just staring at all that cash.

“All right, good. Close the bag.”

Relief washed over Takeda’s features. He shut the bag and pushed it towards Kanemitsu’s feet. He stood up and opened the driver’s door of the Benz. Just as he bent down to climb inside, Kanemitsu pressed the barrel of the Glock into the back of his head. Takeda froze.

“Not your seat.”

When Kanemitsu grabbed the man by the collar and dragged him backwards, Takeda unceremoniously tumbled to the ground.

The detective watched from the shadow of a car in the same row where the BMW was parked. There were two vehicles between him and the BMW.

Takeda, still prone on the ground, threw Kanemitsu a furious look. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m borrowin’ your car,” chuckled Kanemitsu, tossing the cash-laden satchel into the front passenger’s seat.

“I gave you the ransom money as promised. Give Takashi back!”

“Sorry.” A muffled laugh escaped from beneath Kanemitsu’s mask. “I need the kid ’til I can get to a safe place.”

The detective rose to his feet. He propped his hands gripping the revolver on the roof of the car and aimed for Kanemitsu’s head.

“Kanemitsu,” he called softly. His voice echoed more than he’d anticipated across the garage.

Kanemitsu spun to face him, eyes going wide. “H-How did you find …” He stared in disbelief at the detective.

“The exit is blocked. You can’t escape,” the detective stated.

“Fuck off! Want me to kill the kid?!” Kanemitsu’s right hand extended towards the interior of the Benz.

“Release the child and I’ll let you go.”

“Huh?”

“I’m not the police. I’m not here to catch you. Let the child off, take the money and go wherever you like.”

Kanemitsu considered, clearly finding it difficult to suss out the true intention behind the detective’s words. Takeda, having been shocked into silence by the turn of events, chose that moment to make a move.

“Give Takashi back!”

He had a revolver in his right hand. Apparently money wasn’t the only thing he’d prepared in order to get his son back. He gripped his gun with both hands and aimed at the kidnapper.

“Fuck you! You want me to shoot your brat?” Kanemitsu barked.

Takeda’s gun wavered.

“Let the child go, Kanemitsu,” repeated the detective.

Kanemitsu appeared to give it thought and turned to him after a moment. “What you said before, you’re not lying?”

“No.”

“Fine, I’m takin’ the kid outta the car. Don’t shoot.”

Kanemitsu slowly pivoted and opened the rear door of the Benz. The next second, he fired his Glock at Takeda. A frightful bang shook the air, and Takeda’s body jerked and wavered. The detective fired. Kanemitsu was already crouched down behind the driver’s door. The detective’s bullet merely glanced off the window frame. Kanemitsu crept into the driver’s seat, keeping his body low. The detective sprang out from cover and raced towards the front of the Benz. It abruptly peeled out. The detective fired at the center of Kanemitsu’s face, but his aim was slightly high. A cloud appeared on the windshield.

Kanemitsu ducked his head. Blood ran down his forehead. The Benz rushed forward with enough speed to crush the detective to death. He jumped out of the way, landing hard on his shoulder. Still on the ground, he fired off a shot at the rear wheel of the Benz but missed.
The car quickly vanished from view.

The detective jumped to his feet and ran over to Takeda, who was pressing his hands against his left hip and groaning. Blood gushed out from between his fingers. There was a fair amount on the pavement but his life didn’t seem to be in danger.

“Can you call yourself an ambulance?”

Takeda gave a small nod. The detective got into the driver’s seat of the BMW.

“A-And you are …?” asked Takeda.

“On that boy’s side.”

The detective hit the gas.

Yano heard the roar of an engine approaching from the bottom of the ramp. Soon the Benz appeared, with Kanemitsu at the wheel. Yano drew his Beretta and shot at the car. Sparks and splinters flew from the front grill. He fired again, sending more sparks across the bonnet and turning the windshield white. The Benz tore ferociously towards him. Yano kept shooting as it loomed dangerously. He braced his arms and legs for the impact. The Benz crashed into the rear. The Hyundai swiveled. The Benz plowed on into the street.

The Hyundai spun more than ninety degrees then came to a stop. Yano threw the gear into reverse and backed into the street to pursue the Benz. He switched into drive but found the steering totally unresponsive. The back fender must have crushed so badly that it clamped the tire. Yano clucked his tongue and jumped out of the car. He looked around for the Benz, but it was nowhere in sight. His shoulders fell and he heaved a sigh.

An engine growled on the ramp and the BMW dashed out, pulling up in front of Yano. The detective looked up from the driver’s seat. Yano shook his head dejectedly.

The detective, his expression unchanged, turned toward the back and spoke to the man in the rear passenger’s seat. “Any idea where Kanemitsu might have run off to?”

Yano gazed at the detective in silence.

“Was there a metal box in the front passenger seat of that car, about this big?” asked Yoichi, holding his hands apart to indicate the size.

“Ah … Yeah, there was,” Yano replied through the broken window of the BMW.

Yoichi nodded. “When he stole this car, he had no time to grab it.”

“Meth?” asked the detective. He removed the strip of cloth that bound Yoichi’s hands.

“Yeah. He can’t live without drugs anymore. The first thing he’d think of once he got his hands on some cash would be to buy some.”

“You can buy meth anywhere,” retorted Yano.

“No, his favorite is a speedball—a mix of smack and coke. He’d been too broke so he was gettin’ by on meth.”

The detective had heard of this combination of heroin and cocaine before. “So he can’t just buy that on any street corner?”

“He means to stay on the run, plus he’s got all that cash. He must want to buy up as much as he can.”

“Where?”

“The Toriizaka Sanko Building, down the way from Imoaraizaka on the left. There’s a dope shop run by this guy called Izumi in the back on the fourth floor. Kanemitsu will definitely go there.”

The detective nodded and called Kijima on his cell. Kijima had likely given up on the idea of getting any sleep tonight.

“Kanemitsu’s switched his BMW for a Benz. There’s a good chance he’s heading towards Roppongi from Kawasaki.”

“What are you doing, boss?!”

“I’ve got the plate number for the Benz. Jot it down.” The detective also gave their current location and asked for an ambulance for Yoichi before hanging up.

He got out of the car, opened the back door and hauled out the younger man. Yoichi slumped limply against the wall of the garage at the top of the ramp. Shards of clear plastic were scattered on the ground, probably from the Benz’s left headlight.

“When the ambulance gets here, tell them about Takeda too,” the detective said, in case Takeda had passed out. Yoichi nodded. The detective made to climb back into the driver’s seat but halted.

Would Kanemitsu drive all the way to Roppongi in that same Benz? The police putting on a search for the car was a prospect he’d easily prepare for. A car missing a headlight in the middle of the night and with a windshield full of bullet holes was bound to draw attention anyway. Would he really head straight into Tokyo with a car in that state? Kanemitsu, who had gone into Kanagawa to avoid a police dragnet for the BMW, wouldn’t be so careless.

The detective turned back to Yoichi. “Is there somewhere nearby where Kanemitsu could get a car?”

“Huh?” Yoichi didn’t catch the thread at first, but then nodded several times. “There’s a dealership near the Ohmori wastewater treatment plant. It looks like a legit used-car place, but if you’ve got the money you can get an untraceable car.”

“Fujimori Trading?” Yano asked. Yoichi nodded.

The detective turned to Yano. “You know it?”

“We use ’em for the cars we get as collateral for loans. I know the place.”
So now you’ve got a reason to take me along
, his body language announced as he got into the front passenger’s seat.

A faint smile formed on the detective’s face. He got back into the driver’s side. The BMW surged forward and sped away.

Kanemitsu let the phone ring and ring until Fujimori finally picked up.

“Who is it?”

“Kanemitsu.”

“Heh, so fucked up you can’t even read a clock anymore?”

“I need a safe car.”

“You bein’ tailed?”

“You like askin’ stupid questions?”

“Heh, fine, whatever. But I gotta warn ya, there’s a surcharge for wakin’ me up at this hour.”

“I’ll pay whatever you want. Just get me a car.”

“You pain in the ass, I’ll head down now. Meet me at the dealership in an hour.”