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"The Roacherian Effect"  A novel by John C. Delavan

Chapter Eleven

 

Skipper was tired and hungry when he emerged from Customs at Narita International Airport in Tokyo. His thoughts focused on finding a hotel and a restaurant, not necessarily in that order. "An army marches on its stomach", he said to himself.

"Mr. Mason?"

Startled to hear his name, Skipper turned to see a fairly tall, well-muscled young Japanese man showing him a picture ID surrounded by Japanese characters.

"I'm Yoshi Nakagawa, a student of Sensei Mashuta. He honors your master, Grandmaster Kyung Ho Lee, by requesting that I assist you with your business in Tokyo in any way I can. Will you follow me, please?"

"Mr. Nakagawa? I didn't expect to be met. I'm honored." Skipper bowed to the same degree Yoshi had and followed him through the melee of people and baggage all seemingly trying to occupy the same square foot of space Skipper currently laid claim to. At first Skipper was leery. But, trusting his instincts, he accepted Yoshi for now. He'd call Master Lee later to confirm. When he'd left L.A. yesterday morning Master Lee hadn't indicated whether or not he could be of any assistance and had only said he'd try.

Yoshi had his car waiting in a "NO PARKING" zone outside the terminal even though a nearby policeman waved other vehicles away. Skipper stopped short, looked the car over quickly and emitted a long, low whistle. "Yours?" he asked, pointing at the car. Yoshi nodded his head, looking a little embarrassed. The car was a Toyota Aristo, not available in the United States. A four-door sports model, it was equipped with a 320 horsepower in-line six-cylinder, dual-overhead-cam engine with four valves per cylinder and twin intercooled turbochargers. The car could exceed 160 mph and in Japan it cost the equivalent of about $50,000.00.

Skipper threw his bag into the back seat and climbed in, raising an eyebrow at Yoshi who waved at the policeman as he pulled away from the curb.

"Yes, I'm a policeman too, Mr. Mason," Yoshi said, grinning at Skipper's quizzical look. "I showed you my police ID in the airport but I sometimes forget that not everyone reads Japanese. Please forgive me. I work for a special branch of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police. We investigate, um ..." he paused, searching for the right word. "Ah! Gangland homicides, murders, yes?"

Skipper could see a gleam behind his eyes that belied his apparent youth and told of an experienced man who was not afraid of danger but accustomed to it, even relished it.

"Yes, homicide is the correct word, Mr. Nakagawa. I think I may be working for the wrong company. Where do I apply for a job with the Tokyo Police?"

Yoshi was confused. "I don't understand, Sir."

Skipper laughed, "The car, Mr. Nakagawa. It seems very expensive for a police department car."

Now Yoshi actually blushed. "Hai! Yes! I understand now. I'm sorry. I'm a police detective by choice, Mr. Mason. My family is not poor and they're very generous. The car is my own and it will be at your disposal."

Changing the subject, Yoshi asked, "Are you hungry after your long flight, Mr. Mason? Will you join me for a meal? I know a good restaurant near here where the sushi is excellent...you like sushi?"

Skipper was slightly taken aback but didn't reveal it to Yoshi. Instead he chose to begin winning this man's respect in the event he turned out to be a legitimate windfall arranged by Skipper's own instructor. He tried to answer Yoshi's barrage of questions. "Yes, I'm hungry and yes, I'd like to join you for a meal. My company has given me an unlimited expense account. So, although I like sushi, I would much prefer to grant my company the honor of treating us both to a dinner of fugu. What do you say?"

Available in only the finest restaurants, fugu is an elegant culinary treat made from the blowfish and is highly poisonous if not properly prepared. In Japan a chef must be specially licensed to prepare it. It's a prized gourmet meal for which finer restaurants charge the equivalent of $150 - $200 per person.

Yoshi registered surprise. "Yes", he thought, "this is a man of some culture. He knows something about Japan." Etiquette dictated that Yoshi pay since they were in his country but allowing the company to pay was an acceptable alternative. The idea of fugu was irresistible and his mouth watered at the thought.

Yoshi's eyes lit up and a broad smile revealed a gold eye tooth. "It will be my honor, Mr. Mason. My Sensei has asked me, with the consent of my superiors at special branch, to assist you in any way I can for as long as you need. May I recommend one of the restaurants at the New Otani Hotel downtown? There is also a magnificent, traditional Japanese garden there that you might like to see. It's more than 400 years old."

He quickly reassessed Skipper and decided there may more to this man and his business here than he'd originally thought. He didn't know why he'd been chosen to cater to this American, he'd simply been asked to give his utmost loyalty and service to him. Until he knew more he decided to play tour-guide and keep his eyes and ears open. He'd also find out just how deep Skipper's culture and manners went.

On the way to the New Otani Hotel, Yoshi told Skipper he'd taken the liberty of arranging for lodgings in his own home as well as a servant for Skipper during his stay in Japan. Skipper made a slight bow with his head and expressed his appreciation, wondering to himself if the effusive courtesy was legitimate.

Dinner with Yoshi was a pleasant affair. The two shared a private dining room and politely withheld discussion of the reason for Skipper's visit until the formalities of Japanese etiquette were satisfied. Skipper then began to politely inquire into Yoshi's background, his family and job.

Yoshi was willing to discuss everything without volunteering information beyond what was needed to answer Skipper's questions. Yoshi's command of English was excellent and only slightly accented. Skipper complimented him on it but received no explanation for how, when or where he'd learned.

Later, Skipper protested that Yoshi shouldn't have gone to all the trouble of lodgings and servant.

Yoshi smiled. "I respect your concern for my seeming impertinence. I'm sorry if I've offended you. However, I was told to be certain of your safety.

"I should explain that your lodgings in my 'home' are actually separate quarters in a private enclave where I live with other members of the special branch. No one can enter there uninvited. Also, your servant is specially trained and will sacrifice his life if need be to ensure your safety. That's his job. I hope you'll accept my offer of hospitality. I also hope you'll accept whatever help I may personally be to you." Now Yoshi had laid nearly all his cards on the table. The next move was up to Skipper and if the move was wrong it would strain their new relationship.

"I gladly accept your offer, Mr. Nakagawa," he said, with a slight but proper bow. "I'd also like to tell you why I've come to Japan. Perhaps we can help each other."

Skipper had decided to tell Yoshi what he could of the situation as it stood without divulging (yet, at least) what had been stolen. For the next hour the two men discussed the case, Skipper's suspicions about who had stolen the file, and how the trail had led him to Japan. He told about the two suspects who were wanted for questioning by police agencies worldwide.

Yoshi proved to be a windfall indeed. Upon hearing Skipper's story his quick mind pulled bits and pieces of information together with computer-like speed and he shared a great deal of information.

"During the past week we've been investigating several cases that may tie into this matter. One was the death of an American petty criminal on a Japan Airlines flight from America. It had been set up to look like a simple drug overdose but the autopsy disclosed that death came from virtually pure heroin and the body had no evidence of prior needle marks.

"Also, two American businessmen disappeared from the Imperial Palace Hotel, apparently within hours of having arrived and have never been heard from again. They were on the same JAL flight #61 as the deceased petty crook.

"Another two cases which may relate," Yoshi continued, "are a particularly messy rape/murder of a young prostitute and the mysterious murder of a street-smart, young Amerasian. They were both known to sell information whenever they got the chance. These murders may be tied in to recent tips from informants who say word on the street is that two Americans are trying to contact a certain Korean to consummate a deal and that the Korean is also looking for the two Americans."

After he finished his recitation Yoshi watched Skipper try to relate the information he'd just received to what he already knew.

However, all of this was coming at Skipper rapid-fire and he needed a little rest and a little time to think.

Entering the compound where Yoshi lived was like entering another world. The outside appeared to be a large, modern, multi-storied office building--all plate glass and concrete. However, after passing into the underground parking area with its gate guard and emerging from the elevator, Skipper felt as though he'd somehow stepped back through time to feudal Japan and into a wonderful Japanese garden almost as beautiful as the ancient gardens near the New Otani Hotel. The building formed a rectangular compound around the central garden area. What appeared on the outside to be offices were actually luxury apartments. The interior of the ground floor apartment to which Skipper was escorted did justice to the gardens. He was introduced to Kagi, a giant of a man with the girth and proportions of a sumo wrestler. Kagi was to be his servant and took immediate charge of Skipper's single bag.

Skipper wished Yoshi good night and asked where he might find him when he awoke. "Kagi will find me when you need me," Yoshi said. "I live just a few doors down and one floor above you. I think you'll find everything you need in your quarters. Good night, Mr. Mason." With a bow Yoshi left.

Before Skipper dropped off to sleep he discovered, much to his delight, that Kagi was also an amma ya-san, an expert at shiatsu-style massage.

When he awoke he added to Kagi's list of accomplishments that of expert in the Japanese culinary arts. During a magnificent breakfast Skipper mulled over all the details he'd come up with so far. He concluded that he needed to see the possessions of the two Americans who'd disappeared from the Imperial Palace Hotel. The time frame was right and they might actually prove to be Arnburg and Peterson -- stranger things had happened. He also needed to pay his respects to Yoshi's sensei. He asked Kagi to see if Mr. Nakagawa was available. Kagi bowed and left immediately.

During his absence Skipper looked around the apartment. On a low table in the living room he found a Japanese driver's license in his name along with an English interpretation of Japan's motor vehicle laws, a permit to carry a concealed firearm (virtually unheard of in Japan), along with an old, but serviceable government model M1911A1 .45 automatic with two extra magazines of ammunition and an extra set of keys to Yoshi's Aristo. Skipper smiled. Yoshi had actually been serious about placing his car at Skipper disposal.

* *

Nothing in the two Americans' clothing or belongings hinted at anything out of the ordinary at first observation. However, Skipper noticed a Medic-Alert bracelet. "According to this the wearer is a diabetic who takes insulin but I haven't seen an insulin kit anywhere. Have you?"

Yoshi checked with the other investigator at the scene. "No, no insulin kit was found among the belongings of either man."

On a hunch, Skipper asked to see the belongings of the man killed on the airliner. Sure enough, there was the insulin kit and next to it the standard insulin syringe used to inject the lethal dose of heroin. There was also one partial fingerprint.

"Yoshi, since the murder victim was an American are you planning to run this partial print through the FBI?"

"Yes, that's our standard procedure but we almost never get anything on a partial print like that."

"Great. Ask them to specifically check it against Arnburg and Peterson's prints. That way we might get a hit even on a partial print. I'll give you what information I have on them. It might be enough." Skipper knew that if the print belonged to either man he and Yoshi would be looking for real people...not ghosts.

On another hunch, Skipper called Bert and asked him to run down the California addresses and phone numbers of the two missing men. He was pretty sure they'd come up dry which would tend to support his theory that he was dealing with Arnburg and Peterson.

Finally, Skipper asked Yoshi if he could meet with Sensei Mashuta. He was honor bound to pay his respects to the master and was also hoping for a further lead through the martial arts community -- another long shot, but long shots had paid off handsomely so far. "Never sniff a gift fish", he thought with a grin.

Yoshi placed a call to arrange the meeting and the sensei, who was between classes at his dojo, suggested they come over immediately.

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