Clocktower Page 9

  “I don’t much care for you. Nor do I particularly care if you decide to live the rest of your life swallowed up inside a bottle in between stalking unfaithful spouses and taking pictures of their extramarital affairs. As far as I’m concerned, you’re nothing but a tool. A blunt instrument that I’ve hired to accomplish a job. And I will see that you accomplish it without any further interruption.”

  Johnny tucked the phone between his ear and shoulder and opened a small bottle of water that had been set out on his desk. He upended the whole of its contents and let it flow down his throat and over the burning acid in his gut. He said nothing.

  “Your misadventure at Mari’s house could have compromised everything, Mr. Tokisaki. Now we have to deal with a missing corpse. And what have we gained in exchange for this loss? Are you even a single step closer to understanding why Ayano and Mari sliced each other to pieces? Can you provide even a scrap of evidence to support your claims?”

  “Are you done?” Johnny said, rubbing his throbbing temples, “Or do I have time for a piss while you prattle on?”

  There was a muffled sigh on the other end, followed by silence. Johnny threw back the last droplets of water from his bottle, then dropped it into a waiting trash bin.

  “Are you familiar with shogi?” he asked.

  “I don’t play games, Mr. Tokisaki,” she said gruffly.

  “I didn’t ask if you played. I asked if you’re familiar with it.”

  “Mr. Tokisaki, can you please focus on the task at hand? I don’t have time to . . .”

  Johnny stretched out his stiff neck until it gave a satisfying crack. “I found a shogi piece on the floor of Mari’s room when I went to look for her diary. It wasn’t there the first time. Someone either dropped it carelessly, or left it there to be found.”

  He paused for a moment, anticipating her interjection, but it did not come.

  “The ryūma. It’s a powerful piece, but not the most powerful. In English, this piece would be referred to as a promoted bishop. A name given due to how it moves like a bishop in chess. Quite the odd item to be casually carried around.”

  “I fail to follow,” Mrs. Saito said flatly.

  “It’s strange. I’m not much of a player, but my uncle was. He would take me to the tables in Osaka when I was still young and I’d watch him hustle the locals until he had enough winnings to buy us lunch. A normal shogi piece is usually just a small inscribed block of wood with its default form printed on the top and promoted form printed on the bottom. I’ve never seen a piece that was just a promoted version of itself.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “It could be nothing. Perhaps it’s part of a set that has separate pieces for promoted units. Or maybe it has another form of currency. Maybe it’s not something meant to be set on a board at all. No matter—the point is that I think someone wanted me to find it. Are there any shogi parlors in town?”

  “This sounds like a colossal waste of time, Mr. Tokisaki. But to answer your question, no. Not that I know of. You might find a table here or there at a bar in The Lugs, but not beyond that,” she said, stopping to clear her throat. “Was there anything else in Mari’s home that was out of place?”

  “The knives were there,” Johnny said, instantly remembering his inspection of the kitchen. “All of them. Neatly arranged in a wooden cutlery block. Wherever Mari got her weapon, it wasn’t from home.”

  “Why didn’t you lead with that instead of this ridiculous shogi theory of yours? Do you have any idea what this implies? What this could mean?”

  Johnny pulled the phone away from his ear. “It could mean that someone provided her with the weapon. Or it could mean that she simply stole it. It’s impossible to tell at this point,” he said.

  “Well, what do you think it is?” she asked.

  “I think it’s time that I ate a nice breakfast downstairs and got started on my day. And I also think it’s time that you told me about my itinerary.”

  He heard an exasperated exhale from the other end. “My driver will be picking you up at eight. He will take you back to the school. We are arranging for you to meet with Yui Toyama, the girl from the photo that you circled. You will meet her. Under supervision.” She carefully emphasized the last point.

  Johnny didn’t have the wherewithal to protest, and simply grunted in acknowledgement.

  “Do you have any other required visits today?” Mrs. Saito asked.

  “Not at this point. I’ll meet with Yui and see where she takes me. After that, we’ll be in touch.”

  “Very well. Do make sure to stay in touch this time,” she said, hanging up before he could answer.

  Johnny tossed the phone back into the receiver carelessly and picked out a cigarette from the pack in his jacket pocket. Outside, the world had only just begun to stir. It was Tuesday.

  He picked up his revolver and inspected it for a moment before sliding each bullet back into the cylinder. When he got to the bullet that had fallen on its side—the one standing above the name of Zachary Finch—he stopped and examined it. Excepting the smudges of fingerprints upon the brass, there was nothing to differentiate it from the others. No discernable knicks or cuts. No dents or discoloration. Its weight was exactly equal to its brothers’, and the method by which only this single bullet had fallen eluded him. After inspection, he inserted it into the second-to-last empty slot in his pistol, followed by Mrs. Saito’s 158-grain companion shortly thereafter.

  *

  He ate breakfast in the cafe on the second floor, a heavier meal consisting of a Belgian waffle with a bowl of fresh fruit and two strips of bacon. The same homely waitress from the morning before served him again today.

  “Excuse me.” He stopped her after she refilled his coffee. “You wouldn’t happen to know any shogi parlors in town, would you?”

  “Shogi?” She tapped a finger against her chin thoughtfully. “Sorry, sir. There was a shogi club in my high school years, but as far as I know there isn’t much of a scene for it in Sonnerie.”

  Johnny nodded and thanked her. He took the wooden ryūma piece out of his jacket pocket and inspected it once more. It had more heft to it than normal playing pieces, and the more he looked over it, the more he was convinced that it had no business on any proper shogi table. Someone was attempting to communicate with him, but he didn’t know who.

  The ride to the school happened much the same as it did the morning before. He arrived around the same time as the students, only this time he skipped the pleasantries at the front and headed straight up the stairwell toward Principal Itsuka’s office on the fourth floor.

  “Johnny!” he heard Gabriel’s voice call from the other end of the hall. He wore a charcoal three piece suit with a tie of black and gold stripes, and stood in front of a window overlooking the front gate, alone.

  Johnny waved at him and proceeded down the long corridor until he joined Gabriel at the end.

  “Good morning, Gabriel.” Johnny’s voice was still gruff and grotty. They shook hands, and Gabriel looked up at the swollen bruise at the top of Johnny’s temple.

  “Enjoying Sonnerie already, I see.”

  Johnny lifted a cigarette from his pocket and brought it to his mouth. “Oh, splendidly. Never met a finer class of citizens.”

  Gabriel couldn’t hide half a smile. “I hope you returned the kindness,” he said, pointing up at the bruise.

  “Not yet, sadly. But I hope to.” He flicked the lighter on and took a deep inhale. “I take it you’ve heard?”

  “About Mr. Mishima? Yes. Our mutual friend has kept me abreast of the situation.”

  “She was very upset with me.” Johnny exhaled and cocked his neck backward.

  “As she should be. The last thing we need right now is to bring more attention to the situation than there already is,” Gabriel said. He reached into his vest and produced a medium-sized gold
pocket watch with a brilliantly patterned beige dial. After nodding to himself a few times, he returned it and resumed his gaze out the window.

  “That being said,” Gabriel continued, “your actions may have uncovered something that would have gone completely unnoticed otherwise. I, for one, am grateful for a little brazenry. If only just a little.”

  Johnny accepted the compliment with only a nod and produced the ryūma piece from his pocket.

  “Ever see something like this?” he asked.

  Gabriel took it in his hand and measured its weight before bringing it up for closer inspection.

  “The dragon horse,” Gabriel commented. “A powerful piece. But why is the other side blank?”

  “I was hoping to ask you.” Johnny took another drag from his cigarette. Below, a group of girls made a dash for the front gate as it began to close. “Hurry up!” The teacher below motioned to them and they jumped through at the last second.

  “I’ve never heard of a set that had separate promoted pieces. Where did you find this?”

  “Mari’s room, second time around. Wasn’t there the first time, I’m positive. Someone left it there to be found.”

  “Principal Itsuka?” a voice called from down the hall. The two men turned to see a mid-sized woman in her thirties with a student at her back. Johnny recognized her immediately. Yui Toyama. The girl from the newspaper photograph.

  “Ah, Miss Fujihara. Have Miss Toyama sit in my office. We will be there shortly.”

  Miss Fujihara bowed and dutifully escorted Yui to the office beyond.

  “There’s a shogi parlor down in The Lugs,” Gabriel said. “It’s a hole, and you only ever see retirees there who do nothing but play shogi and choke on cigarette smoke all day.”

  “Got an address?” Johnny moved to take his notepad out, but Gabriel shook his head.

  “The Lugs were constructed to keep people in. It’s a maze of bars and brothels with many entrances but few exits. Fortunately, you won’t have to go that deep. If you head down the main road and take a right on Tinker, you should find it. I haven’t been there in a decade at least, but if you get lost just follow the smoke and shouting.”

  Johnny nodded. “I’ll make sure to check it out. Might learn a thing or two.”

  They turned and began walking down the hall toward Gabriel’s office.

  “You should know that I will be acting as your observer,” Gabriel said. “I’m sure it has already been explained to you, but you are to reveal nothing about Mari’s death. As far as Yui knows, Mari is out with a serious case of the flu and is quarantined in her home.”

  “The flu?” Johnny took the ryūma piece back from Gabriel and slid it back into his pocket.

  “A shallow lie, but a lie we must preserve,” Gabriel said. She has been told that you are a medical doctor visiting from Los Angeles in order to help trace how she contracted this dangerous strain, and are interviewing everyone about it. That should give you the freedom to ask more direct and personal questions.”

  “And you?” Johnny asked.

  “I will observe and support as necessary,” Gabriel said as they approached his office. “Ready, Dr. Tokisaki?” He produced a portable ashtray from his pocket and collected the remnants of Johnny’s cigarette.

  “Very good. Let’s go.”

  *

  Yui was a meager girl. Her face was pale and bony, and she looked as if a stiff breeze could blow her over at any moment. She jumped up immediately after hearing the door open and greeted the two men as they entered.

  “Good morning, Principal Itsuka.”

  She gave a deep bow and held it until he returned her greeting.

  “Good morning, Miss Toyama. Thank you for coming in.”

  Gabriel ushered her into a chair, then motioned for Johnny to take his own. For himself, he took the seat next to Yui and turned it slightly toward her.

  “This is Dr. Tokisaki,” he began. “He is here from Los Angeles to help us.”

  “Nice to meet you, Dr. Tokisaki.” She gave a courteous but timid bow of her head, then looked back at Gabriel. “Principal Itsuka”—her voice cracked—“is Mari alright?”

  “No,” Johnny cut in before Gabriel could answer. “Her condition is severe. I need your help, Yui. She needs your help. Do you understand?”

  Her eyes had already begun to gloss over with fresh tears, but she held them back admirably and nodded.

  “I’m going to ask you some questions about Mari.” Johnny put his elbows on Gabriel’s desk and leaned in. “They might sound personal, even intrusive. But I need to know everything I can if I’m going to help her.”

  He paused and waited for her to relax her breathing. It wasn’t the first time he had lied to get information, but he took no pleasure in taking advantage of one so young.

  “Are you and Mari close?” he began.

  “Yes. We’ve been best friends since elementary school. We know everything about each other,” she said, a small smile on her face betraying the honesty of her words.

  “When was the last time you saw Mari?” he asked.

  “Last Friday. In class. She went to study hall after school and I went home.” Yui was hesitant to make eye contact with him, but he could still sense no deception in her voice.

  “Did . . .” he paused, aware of his potential slipup. “Does she usually stay after school to study?”

  “No. She usually goes straight home. She isn’t in any clubs, so if we aren’t spending time together she doesn’t stick around.”

  “Does she have a lot of friends?”

  Yui looked up, puzzled at the question. “Sir?” she hesitated.

  “Is she popular? Does she often go out with people?”

  Yui thought on it for a moment. “No. I mean, people don’t hate her, I guess. I . . .”

  Gabriel leaned in. “It’s all right, Yui. I know this is hard, but please bear with the questions. Any information you can give the doctor could potentially help.”

  Yui looked at him, then back down at the desk.

  “It’s okay,” Johnny said. “Let me ask you a different question. Has Mari been acting differently lately? Anything out of the ordinary in her mannerisms or attitude?”

  “Well, she’s tired a lot. Sometimes she falls asleep in first period. Ms. Fujihara has had to wake her up more than once.”

  “Did she say anything to you about having trouble sleeping?”

  Yui craned her head to the left. Something in the question had sparked a sudden defense mechanism. “No. She’s just sleepy is all.”

  It wasn’t untrue, but Johnny felt the need to press on.

  “You said Mari doesn’t belong to any clubs or extracurricular activities. Does she work a part-time job?”

  “Students can’t work part-time jobs, it’s against the rules.” The gloss from Yui’s eyes had been replaced by an edged furrow in her brow. A defense that might have fooled someone her own age, but not him.

  “I didn’t ask if it was allowed or not. I asked if she was working a part-time job. Is she?”

  She looked over at Gabriel, then, for the first time, up at Johnny. “No—at least, I don’t know.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I don’t know,” she repeated

  Johnny took out his notepad and pen and scribbled “worked a part-time job” on it, then looked back at her. Her brow was still furrowed, and he could see the cogs turning in her mind. She was trying to protect her friend. Trying to protect someone who was already dead. He could have penetrated her guard and pushed her then, but instead he leaned back in his chair and tapped his pen against the desk, feigning deep thought.

  “Yui,” Gabriel interceded after the silence had stretched on over the course of half a minute. “You can be honest with Dr. Tokisaki. He’s here to help.”

  “I am being honest.” Her
wall grew higher.

  “Yui.” Johnny leaned in again and looked her in the eye. She met his gaze for the second time. “Has Mari ever left Sonnerie?”

  “No.” The answer was flat and firm, without hesitation.

  “Does she drink? Has she been drinking?”

  “No.”

  “Has she been using any psychedelic drugs?”

  “No.”

  “Has she ever talked about running away?”

  There was an instant break in eye contact, but the same answer returned. “No.”

  Johnny leaned in even further. “Did she tell you she lost her virginity?”

  Yui’s cheeks reddened, and her gaze fell instantly. She did not answer.

  “Dr. Tokisaki.” Gabriel looked at him and shook his head. His expression pleaded his case to cease this line of questions, but Johnny had found what he was looking for.

  “How long has Mari been dating her boyfriend?”

  “She doesn’t have a boyfriend.” Her voice was shallow and meek now.

  “She doesn’t?” Johnny asked. “Or she does and doesn’t trust you enough to let you in on her secret?”

  “She tells me everything!” Yui nearly shouted. Gabriel put a hand forward to intervene, but Johnny quickly waved him down.

  “She does? So you’re saying she didn’t tell you about her part-time job either?”

  “Of course she did!” She slammed her hands down on the desk.

  Her face paled as soon as the words had left her lips. The game was over. She shrank back into her chair, her eyes cast down at her feet.

  “You lied.” Gabriel balled his hand into a fist. “Why did you lie?”

  She looked at him and began to panic. “Principal Itsuka, I. . .”

  “Silence!”

  Johnny stood up and came around to Yui, taking a seat on the desk to her left.

  “Trying to protect your friends is admirable, Yui. I don’t blame you for it, and I’m sure, had our positions been reversed, I would have done the same given the situation. Being asked to betray the trust of someone dear to you, no matter the reason, is a difficult thing.”