Hidden Nexus Read online

  Hidden Nexus

  By Nick Tanner

  Copyright © Nick Tanner

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the author. Any person who does any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

  For

  Yumi & Azusa

  In the knowledge that it has been done

  Contents

  Prologue. 7

  1 - In which we glimpse the mutual indifference of the morning routine.. 13

  2 - In which a murderer contemplates his business 27

  3 - In which the body is discovered and we meet up once again with Sergeant Mori 30

  4 - In which the snow falls….. 42

  5 - In which a politician plans his next move in his never-ending game of chess. 45

  6 - In which Mori reluctantly accepts Sakamoto’s point of view 59

  7 - In which a scandal is unveiled. 62

  8 - In which we experience a drunken interlude, the delights of pachinko and the prostitutes dilemma 69

  9 - In which a fallen aid plots the way back home 82

  10 - In which Hideki Yamada recounts his steps 85

  11 - In which a night watchman considers. 95

  12 - In which a fallen politician plots the way back home 97

  13 - In which a prostitute recalls her inner strength, considers her position and then acts with the precision of a samurai swordsman. 102

  14 - In which Mori considers the process of corroborated suspicion 108

  15 - In which Fujiwara begins to count the cost 112

  16 - In which a slut counts her money. 115

  17 - In which a house is searched and guilt is momentarily elusive 119

  18 - In which gratuitous aggression creates a twist 123

  19 - Incidental musings in the house of Mori 127

  20 - In which Sergeant Mori partakes in the traditional New Year’s day festivities 136

  21 - In which Watanabe considers the nature of hostess bars, Kinjo, the slut and his wife. 137

  22 - In which a detainee considers the meaning of reality 141

  23 - In which Inspector Saito returns and thoughts of retirement surface for the first time 146

  24 - In which Sergeant Mori considers motives and eventually guilt is confirmed 149

  25 - Inspector Saito casts doubt on the veracity of confession 158

  26 - In which Inspector Saito receives his first duties much to his chagrin 162

  27 - In which the first visit takes place to the good people at Niigata Kyubin 168

  28 - In which Sakamoto and the Chief Super come to an agreement – of sorts 180

  29 - The investigators return to Niigata Kyubin and a code is revealed 197

  30 - In which the delights of the profit and loss are raked through 208

  31 - In which Inspector Saito is late for his appointment 212

  32 – Ozawa reflects on his feelings for a departed colleague 217

  33 - In which inspector Saito meets his match. 227

  34 – Where a mafia clansman reaches the end of the road 232

  35 - In which Inspector Saito and Junsa Saito quite unexpectedly begin to open up. 237

  36 - In which haphazard speculation begins to take some shape. 245

  37 - Sakamoto rues the day that curiosity killed the cat 259

  38 - In which Sergeant Mori reflects on his companions and questions a company chauffeur. 264

  39 - In which Sakamoto makes tentative contact with a central pacific island 273

  40 - Ozawa is pressed as to the nature of his sexual inclinations 276

  41 - In which notes are compared and the trio prepare to go again 280

  42 - Ozawa reflects on his role. 284

  43 - In which Inspector Saito jumps into the abyss 296

  44 - In which Watanabe enacts a forward pike with double axel to complete a dead cat bounce 311

  45 - In which Junsa Saito is invited to a discovery 325

  46 - In which Inspector Saito circles and dives and where Watanabe wriggles and escapes. 328

  47 - In which the final clinching piece of evidence is discovered 336

  48 - In which a phone call precipitates some traditional action in the samurai mould 338

  49 - In which disturbing thoughts lead to a way out 342

  50 - In which a fit middle-aged woman stumbles into a crisis 344

  51 - In which Inspector Saito experiences love’s sharp arrow and Junsa Saito loses her virginity. 347

  52- In which a night-watchman acts and another body is discovered. 359

  53 - In which Fujiwara is placed under the microscope 364

  54- In which Junsa Saito investigates. 368

  55 - In which forensics are forensically examined 376

  56 – The life and times of Rumi Park. 380

  57 - In which Sakamoto catches a cold. 383

  58 - In which the whole team conjoins. 388

  59 - In which Sakamoto is forced to act. 400

  60 - In which a few of Saito’s own pennies begin to drop 403

  61 - In which the clouds darken and Inspector Saito confesses 408

  62 - In which the three begin again. 417

  63 - In which Watanabe finds solace in the rituals of Sumo 429

  64 - In which Sergeant Mori lays out his case. 431

  65 - In which Kinjo comes in from the cold. 440

  66 - In which the cogs within Inspector Saito’s mind reach an unassailable conclusion 443

  67 - In which Kinjo spills the beans. 445

  68 - In which the race is on and the case is wrapped 449

  Prologue

  The man in view, the man in subdued, soft focus, was short in stature, ruddy faced and as anonymous as you were ever likely to meet. He looked like a million other Japanese men who at that precise moment were walking down similar streets with a similar gait with a similar level of intent. But this man was special, pivotal and special, which in his conceited way is exactly how he would have described himself.

  A year ago he would certainly have hesitated as he took the steps. A year ago he would have paused to seriously consider and re-consider the actions he was about to commit. But that was a year ago. Having said that, his present approach could neither be described as a swagger. Suffice it to say that it was with a casual air that he strode towards the eight story building, skipped up the steps and slipped quickly through the tinted electric doors that closed silently behind him. Once inside he strolled confidently through the lavish foyer, pressed the elevator button for the top floor and as per usual waited, experiencing without fail a sense of finely-tuned excitement and heightened anticipation. He did have lingering doubts, of course he did. There were others to consider in this delightful, and yet, dishonourable business but over the past twelve months he’d found no difficulty in putting these thoughts, quite significantly, behind him. But then there was the cost! That was proving to be much more of a problem, but by now he was more than considerably hooked and more than considerably in over his head. But by now, there was no alternative option. Not really!

  At reception he humbly proffered his membership card as had been demanded, undecided whether or not he was peeved to remain unrecognised. He was a man of some status after all! He was then escorted efficiently into the main lounge and as he took his seat, on reflection, he thought that perhaps it was best for him to remain partially anonymous.

  ‘Drink?’ offered one of the girls coming smoothly over to him and reeling off a comprehensive list of alcoholic beverages - whiskey, martini, sake, gin, shoch
u, vodka…’

  He was familiar with the list. He couldn’t recall a time when it had ever altered.

  ‘Shochu, onegai shimasu.’

  ‘Komejochu, Mugijochu or Imojochu? And we do have other varieties-’

  ‘I know, but Imojochu will be fine.’

  ‘Kori (ice)?’

  ‘Neat. Thank you.’

  He appraised the girl as she made her way back to the bar. He hadn’t seen her before and he marvelled at her sensational curves wrapped so securely in her pristine, white, figure hugging masseuse’s tunic. She wasn’t Japanese despite her fluency with the language.

  He waited for a few more minutes. He knew who he wanted, who he had ordered. Girls came in and joined him in polite games of flattery tennis on the couch and other customers came in and joined him in their tentative sipping of the aperitif. This was all part of the side show before the main act. Finally the woman he’d been waiting for entered the lounge, looking exquisite as usual. She looked towards him and gently smiled. He smiled weakly back and then after she’d beckoned, followed her out of the room down the long, carpeted corridor into her own private room.

  She, for her part, was cool and sexy dressed also in a white tunic, partially-unbuttoned, partially-revealing, down the front.

  At this point he quickly changed out of his own clothing and into the yukata (Japanese pyjamas) provided.

  ‘Would you like to lie down on the futon - on your front?’ She pointed to the comfortable-looking futon on the tatami-matted floor.

  He hadn’t said anything up to this point, obeying her instructions mechanically and closed his eyes as she kneeled down beside him, her fingers gently massaging the muscles around his neck and shoulders.

  ‘Not too strong?’

  ‘Ummm…no, perfect. Very good.’

  ‘Just relax!’ She placed her hands on top of his yukata and continued to massage his shoulders with the tips of her fingers, working her way down towards the upper back – repeatedly and firmly.

  ‘Would you like me to undress you?’

  ‘Sure. You know the drill – the usual.’

  ‘I do indeed,’ she smiled, removing the belt that was binding his yukata and tugging gently at the loose material.

  The massage continued for thirty minutes or so during which time the knots within his shoulders gradually began to be smoothed away in equal speed to his clothing. She worked expertly from his shoulders to his back and finally onto his legs and feet. He particularly liked it when she did his feet and even more so when she tweaked his toes, pulling them so that the bones almost popped.

  He lay on his front on the futon relaxed and naked.

  ‘Would you like another drink?’ she asked once she’d finished.

  ‘Please. You having one yourself?’

  She hesitated for a second. It wasn’t policy to drink while on the job, at least not to drink too much while on the job. ‘Sure, why not?’ she replied and took a new bottle from a small cabinet in the corner of the room. He watched as she peeled off the seal. He always found this act so sexy. He found everything she did so sexy - after all it was why he was here. It was why he was hooked and why he continued to spend the money even when he knew he didn’t have it. She poured him half a tumbler and brought it over then sat in front of him. They clinked glasses.

  ‘Campai!’ she whispered before kissing him gently behind the ear and then taking a sip out of her own glass, leaving a deep red imprint of her lipstick on the rim.

  She stood up and placed her now empty glass on the sideboard and then came back and straddled him. He felt the lissom movement of her bottom pressing down on his back.

  ‘Extras?’

  ‘You know you don’t need to ask.’

  With his face pushed down into futon he could only listen to her actions but this was more than enough to raise his sexual desire. He could hear quite clearly as her fingers swiftly completed the unbuttoning of her tunic. He luxuriated in the noise - it bristled with erotic expectation. Finally he heard that fantastic sound as in one movement she opened her tunic, slid out her arms and then flung it wantonly onto the floor her thighs gripping his body more tightly as she did so. She then unclipped her bra before gently lowering herself onto his body so that he could feel the ecstatic pressure of her warm breasts upon his bare back. He couldn’t take his eyes off her silk bra as it too, lay seductively on the floor next to her clean, white tunic. He was in a state of complete and utter delirium and was now totally aching for her.

  One hour later he was quite satisfied and more than quite relaxed. He dressed slowly and then without any fuss quietly exited the room.

  He was just on the point of leaving the premises when he felt a heavy hand upon his shoulder.

  ‘Could you come with me, sir?’

  He turned to see a thick-set man dressed in a dinner suit. He had feared this moment - feared it above anything else.

  ‘Fujiwara san would like a word.’

  ‘Sure, sure, no problem.’ The words caught at the back of his throat. On the whole however, he knew that it was a problem! He followed the man reluctantly to an office at the back of the building. The dinner suit opened the door and invited him into a room which was run-down and seemingly at odds with the premises out front. Fujiwara, he guessed it was him, sat behind a solid looking desk. He noted, particularly, the harsh scouring upon the desk's top. He noted too, that Fujiwara was a squat, ugly-looking man with a mass of curly hair and a wispy, black moustache. Fujiwara looked up from what he was writing. There was no emotion in his face and no severity in his tone of voice. He simply stated the facts - coldly.

  ‘You owe me money. In fact you owe me a lot of money.’

  ‘Yes, I know. I can explain-’

  Fujiwara raised his hand to silence him. ‘You have two options. You either pay your debt by tomorrow or...’

  ‘And if I can’t pay by tomorrow?’

  ‘Weren’t you listening? I just told you that you had two options.’

  ‘Okay, if I don’t pay by tomorrow?’

  ‘Special measures!’

  ‘Special measures?’

  ‘You have a wife?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Or a daughter? Say no more.’

  1 - In which we glimpse the mutual indifference of the morning routine..

  Thursday 30th December 6:43am

  With a hand, cold, white and shaking Hideki Yamada tugged at the chord that hung from the main light in what he unhappily considered to be his undersized front room. The light flickered slowly into action – five small fluorescent discs surrounding a larger central one. He then pulled the light chord a further time, releasing the centre disc from its duty and the luminosity, no longer harsh and bright, allowed his eyes to gently and gradually adjust to their surroundings. The room was still freezing cold. He’d not yet put on the heater. It was the second thing he did. Lastly he turned on the TV using the remote.

  As usual he’d been the first to rise and as ever he didn’t appreciate having to leave the warmth of his bed with the warmth of his duvet wrapped around him and if he was lucky, which he usually wasn’t, the warmth of his wife Eri, also wrapped around him. His feet, so quick to lose their heat, scampered across the cold wooden floor.

  As routine dictated he and Eri had thirty frantic minutes or so to wash, dress, prepare and eat breakfast before they went their separate ways for the day.