Sign of the Dragon (Tatsu Yamada Book 1) Page 2

  ‘A sword?’ Tatsu asked as soon as she laid eyes on the body. ‘That’s rare these days.’

  ‘Who said it was a sword?’ Nakano asked in return.

  ‘You’re smarter than this, Nakano. Stop trying to pin it on me. The visual evidence says it was a sword. Hey, you’re a kendoka, right? Maybe you killed him.’

  Nakano gave a sniff. ‘I was at home with my sister last night. I have a solid alibi.’

  ‘So do I, but I’m only going to use it if you really get pushy about it. Check the security records.’ She narrowed her eyes and looked down at the body which was now lying in a body bag in the middle of the kitchen floor. The kitchen was huge. Somehow, Tatsu doubted that Taisiya was that into cooking. ‘Where’s the wife?’

  ‘Bedroom. He didn’t quite cut her head off…’

  Tatsu gave a small grimace. ‘Anastas goes for a drink of water. Someone cuts him across the chest and then runs the blade through his heart. Then they go to the bedroom and kill Taisiya. Damn, she wasn’t even thirty.’

  ‘Twenty-eight. No family.’

  ‘Huh. Rumour says she was no angel, but still… Then they leave that card at the scene. I’ve never heard of any assassin using the sign of the dragon as a calling card. Whoever it is, they’re new.’

  Nakano nodded. ‘We haven’t come up with any like-crimes yet, so you’re probably right. “Sign of the dragon,” huh?’

  ‘It’s the kanji for the astrological dragon. Don’t ask me why my parents used that for my name. And you can’t ask them. You want me to chase up the Chiba end of this? See if any of his, um, business rivals might have decided to take him out?’

  ‘Not so much that I want you to than that Sakurada Gate wants you to.’

  ‘Yeah…’

  ‘Though, if you bend my arm, I’d have to admit this’ll go easier with someone who knows what’s going on up there.’

  Tatsu allowed herself a wry grin. ‘Thanks for the vote of confidence.’

  Chiba.

  The Hole was one of the best places in Chiba to gather information, if you were tough enough. Officially, the nightclub was called the Hole in the Wall, but the only people who called it that were the really dumb tourists out of Tokyo looking for a wild experience in the wilds of Chiba. They usually got one. Occasionally, Tatsu was called in to deal with the aftermath.

  A multi-level maze of tables, mezzanines, bars, and dance floors, The Hole was dimly lit, and you frequently found yourself walking through clouds of smoke it was unwise to breathe. Dancers of both sexes in various states of undress writhed in cages at numerous locations around the place. Generally, the higher you got, the less clothes you saw, and that applied to a lot of the patrons as well as the cage dancers. Here, Tatsu’s outfit almost appeared tame.

  Tatsu walked through the club, listening. She had excellent hearing. To be more precise, she had a really good audio reception system backed up with both hardware and software signal processing, and the combination let her dissect all the conversations in her neighbourhood, picking out the details which might be useful. Izanami had said Tatsu should get out more, but this was probably not what she had meant.

  The Hole was a riot of linguistics, which made life a little harder for someone seeking knowledge. Japanese, Mandarin Chinese, English, Russian, Korean, and a smattering of other languages could be heard from various points around the club. When the Russian Measles had struck and then the Cyberwar had kicked off, refugees had come from all over. The majority in Japan had been from America, Korea, China, and Russia – places it was possible to escape by boat from and end up on the Japanese coast. Tatsu was fluent in Japanese and English and could understand Russian and Mandarin well enough. For anything else, she could run a skill package, but she did not expect to need to tonight: Zima’s people were Russian.

  There were, of course, people talking about Zima’s death. Most of it was ‘have you heard,’ but there was speculation. That fell into two categories: who did it and what happens now. There was little real information going around about the first question. So far, little had leaked about the manner of Zima’s death. It was known that he had been killed in his apartment. Several people seemed to know that his wife had been murdered too. No one had learned how they had died, just that they had. Zima’s apartment had good security, but there were plenty of people around who were sure that they could have got in if they had needed to.

  As to the future, it seemed like there was some confusion there. Some said that Zima’s organisation would continue without him. Others said that there was movement among the other groups within Chiba and a turf war was in the offing. Tatsu did not like the thought of that last one; when she had wiped out the tong the year before, it had been necessary but it had resulted in several months of conflict as the balance of power settled.

  Up on the eighth floor, the top floor as far as customers were concerned, Tatsu hit paydirt. It was well-dressed dirt, but it was definitely something you would want to clean out from under your fingernails. Grigory Vasilev was sitting at one of the tables which had a cage in the middle of it, surrounded by various other members of Zima’s gang. They were drinking and laughing and ogling the naked dancer in the cage, and if this was a wake, it was a weird one. Vasilev had been one of Zima’s key lieutenants up until this morning. You would have thought he would have a bit more feeling for his deceased boss.

  ‘Boys!’ Vasilev roared as soon as he saw Tatsu walking over to their table. ‘Another dancer!’ He was speaking Russian. He had a habit of doing that around pretty much anyone who was not Russian, so Tatsu did not feel offended. He knew she would understand him, and she knew that he knew it. Basically, Vasilev was an asshole and had probably been that way while still on breast milk.

  ‘You don’t seem to be mourning your boss very keenly, Grigory,’ Tatsu said in reply.

  ‘In Russia, we men celebrate life and leave the lamentations to our women!’ He raised a shot glass of clear liquid. ‘Anastas!’ Everyone drank.

  ‘Not that many women will lament him with Taisiya gone,’ one of the others commented. ‘Maybe spit on his grave instead.’

  ‘That is true!’ Vasilev agreed. ‘Even with a hot wife like Taisiya, Anastas was still playing the field.’ Tatsu had heard more than a few rumours about Zima’s mistresses, young and old alike. She doubted any of them would have had him murdered, however. Maybe a boyfriend or husband…

  ‘Any ideas who ordered the hit?’ Tatsu asked.

  Vasilev’s face straightened. ‘You think I would tell you if I had?’

  ‘Yes, because if you knew and you went after them yourself, you know what I’d do.’

  ‘You are one woman, dragon lady. You took down some Chinese pussies, sure. You got lucky. You fuck with us–’

  ‘You can keep thinking that if you want, Grigory. If I decide to fuck with you– No, fucking is the last thing I have any intention of doing with you. If I decide that your organisation is dangerous, you won’t see me coming. If you get anything on the assassin, pick up a phone.’ Tatsu glanced at the dancer briefly before turning and walking away.

  ‘Fuck you, cop!’ Vasilev called after her, and the others at the table laughed.

  Tatsu ignored them and kept on walking.

  ~~~

  It was a little after ten at night and the air was hanging on to the heat of the day well. The alley behind the club where the staff entrance was located was poorly lit and hot. Tatsu leaned against a wall and waited, largely oblivious to both light level and temperature. Her eyes saw in frequencies a lot of people had never heard of and her body could handle a very wide temperature range. She was waiting for someone, and she could be very patient when she felt like it.

  The reinforced door opened and a woman stepped through. Even with clothes on, Tatsu recognised her, and her augmented reality software quickly came up with an ID and a lot of personal data. Sachiko Kobayashi, born twentieth November twenty-eighty. Registered profession: dancer. One reprimand on record for underage prostitution.
Either she had got out, or she had got better at avoiding police patrols. Her MedStat indicators showed two greens which suggested that she was physically and mentally healthy. She was attractive, maybe ten centimetres taller than Tatsu and long in the leg. Trim figure suggested regular exercise. Moderate bust. Less of the exaggeration sculpted into Tatsu’s frame. Her face was kind of flat with a small nose and deeply curved lips. Her eyes were almost black, and her hair was black not to mention long; long, slightly wavy strands of jet black fell to her hips at front and back. Her fringe almost covered moderately thick, strongly curved eyebrows. She was dressed to impress, or maybe it was for comfort. A black fishnet tank T-shirt showed off the white fishnet bra beneath. Her skirt was white, frilled in two tiers, and failed to cover her behind by a couple of centimetres though it managed to be more concealing at the front. She was also wearing thick thigh-high socks in white with black bands at the top, and transparent plastic stripper shoes with a platform and easily twenty-five centimetres of heel.

  Kobayashi did not notice Tatsu initially. It was only when Tatsu stepped forward into the light from the lamp above the door that there was a reaction. The dancer recoiled, got a better look at who was there, and immediately calmed. ‘It’s you. What do you want?’

  ‘You,’ Tatsu replied. ‘For tonight. Thirty thousand yen.’

  ‘Are cops allowed to hire prostitutes?’

  Tatsu shrugged. ‘Sex work in general was decriminalised in twenty-sixty-five. Assuming that all participants are eighteen years old or over.’

  ‘I know. You’re overpaying for Chiba.’

  ‘You’ll earn it.’

  ‘And I got out of that life. I just dance. And I keep bars between me and the customers.’ Kobayashi seemed to consider that a closing argument; she turned and started away. Then she paused and looked back over her shoulder. ‘But if you buy me dinner, I might consider taking you home anyway.’

  Tatsu took a couple of quick steps to close the distance. ‘Works for me.’

  ~~~

  Kobayashi was a cheap date. They went to a burger place not far from the club. The dancer did order a double-layered burger, fries, and a soda, but it was not exactly putting a dent in Tatsu’s budget. They ate at a table in the shop since Kobayashi was still deciding how the evening would go.

  Kobayashi frowned at the basic-looking burger Tatsu had ordered. ‘That… looks weird. And not very appetising.’

  ‘I doubt you’d like it. Since we’re here and they do cyborg food, I’m eating with you.’

  Kobayashi’s expressive eyebrows rose. ‘You’re a cyborg?’

  ‘Full-body prosthetic. Everything’s metal and plastic aside from my brain.’

  There was some thoughtful chewing. ‘I’ve never done a cyborg. Not a full-body one anyway.’

  ‘Does that make it more or less likely that we’ll end up in bed?’

  More chewing. Kobayashi was having to think about it, which was not a great sign. ‘Less, but I’m not letting that stop me. I haven’t decided whether you’re getting any yet anyway.’

  Cyborgs had something of a complex status in society. Obvious cybernetics were viewed as either an indication of poverty or just plain weird. Those with fully prosthetic bodies had a reputation for violence since a lot had been used in the war, or people just had trouble dealing with the idea of a human brain in a robot body.

  ‘I’m aware. I have an ulterior motive for asking anyway.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘I want to know if Vasilev knows who killed his boss. I’m wondering whether you heard anything while they were at your table. People tend to forget dancers have ears.’

  Kobayashi frowned. ‘I try not to hear what the customers are saying. I don’t want to know.’

  ‘I’m sure, but I bet you hear things anyway. If Vasilev starts a war over this, Chiba’s going to end up in a mess. I just want to head trouble off before it starts.’

  More thoughtful chewing, with added frown. ‘I don’t think he knows. No, I’m sure he doesn’t. They were throwing names around. All of them were dismissed. They’re as in the dark as you are. After you left, Vasilev told the others not to do anything unless they were sure they knew who issued the contract.’

  ‘They’re sure it was professional?’

  ‘Seemed like it to me.’

  Tatsu nodded. It had looked professional. It had looked skilled and professional, and they had used a sword. Yakuza? Had Vasilev put his foot on the wrong toes outside of Chiba? That was really Nakano’s problem, but she would mention it to him. She turned off her sense of taste and bit into her burger; the things were better tasting than the nutrition bars she normally ate, but not that much better.

  ‘I’ve decided,’ Kobayashi said. Her burger was gone, and she was eating fries from the paper carton with a rather delicate, deliberate action which was weirdly sensual.

  ‘About what?’

  ‘Whether you’re getting lucky. You are.’

  Tatsu gave Kobayashi a wry sort of smile. ‘Not bothered about me being a machine then?’

  ‘I am, but I’m curious. And you’re hot. You better be good.’

  ‘Well, I’ve never had any complaints…’

  9th July.

  ‘I’m complaining,’ Kobayashi gasped.

  ‘You are?’ Tatsu crawled out from between the dancer’s legs and then up the bed to lie beside her.

  ‘Yes. Don’t you ever get tired? If we keep this up, you’re going to kill me.’

  ‘I get sleepy. I need as much sleep as anyone else. My muscles are reactive fibres and motorised actuators. They don’t get fatigued.’

  ‘Don’t your batteries run down or something?’

  ‘I have a fuel cell. It needs refuelling once a month and maintenance is weeks away.’

  ‘Shit. You are going to kill me.’

  ‘The paperwork would be a pain. You’re safe. We’ll take a shower and then get some sleep.’

  ‘You’re going to make me fuck in the shower.’

  ‘I won’t make you do anything. But we are going to have sex in there, sure.’

  Kobayashi sighed. ‘I guess I’ll die happy.’

  ~~~

  ‘How did you end up in Chiba?’ Tatsu asked. She was watching Kobayashi eat. Kobayashi’s apartment was not too bad. It was basically identical to Tatsu’s since a lot of the housing in Chiba had been put up using the same government plans when they had realised how bad the refugee problem was getting. It was a single room, about three metres by two with a chunk taken out of the corner opposite the window for a ‘sanitation cubicle.’ This was a metal frame holding textured, translucent plastic panels containing the shower, sink, and toilet. Both sink and toilet came out of the wall when you needed them. Very space efficient. The bed folded up against the wall on one side, and you pretty much had to fold it up to get to the door which took up the rest of the back wall. You could also fold up the desk into the opposite wall from the bed, covering the entertainment screen as you did so. Storage came in the form of drop-down bins which emerged from the ceiling when needed. Very compact, very cheap. The main difference between Kobayashi’s place and Tatsu’s was that the dancer kept hers cleaner.

  ‘I slept with the wrong guy,’ Kobayashi replied. ‘I mean, anyone was the wrong guy since I was fifteen, but it turned out he was really the wrong guy. I got pregnant and his family blocked any attempts to prove he was the father. My parents kicked me out for shaming the family name. Chiba was about the only place I could go.’

  ‘I, um, don’t see a kid.’

  ‘No. I lost the baby at seven months. My parents “neglected” to transfer my UBI payments to me for six months. I was malnourished and working any way I could to eat. I had a miscarriage. So, I was out on the streets and angry at just about everyone. I ended up on my back, of course. I’m sure you scanned my record.’ Kobayashi did not seem too angry about it now, but Tatsu could imagine the furious teenager she had been.

  ‘Yeah. That stuff is automatic if I access someone�
�s ID data.’

  ‘I know it’s not legal, but I didn’t have anything else I could sell.’

  ‘I’m not actually judging. If you’re Japanese and in Chiba, there’s usually a bad story behind it.’

  ‘I guess so. Anyway, I got into the dancing gig at The Hole and got out of the other stuff. I don’t take drugs and I only drink in moderation. I make rent every month and I can feed myself every day. It’s not that bad a life. How did you end up working in Chiba? Who did you piss off?’

  ‘No one. I asked for it.’

  Kobayashi grinned. ‘If I’d known you were into masochism, I’ve got this great dominatrix outfit I made…’

  ‘I’m not. Chiba fits me better. You made a dominatrix outfit?’

  ‘Yeah.’ Kobayashi pointed up at the ceiling lighting panel, behind which was her storage unit. ‘I made a bunch of costumes back when I was in the business. Schoolgirl, maid, that kind of thing. I just never felt like throwing them out. I make most of my own clothes too. Before you ask, I tried selling some to other people, but it’s just about impossible to compete with the automated factories.’

  ‘No, I know that. You need to be able to provide a service people can’t get otherwise. Or be a famous designer.’

  ‘Exactly. And famous designers don’t come from Chiba.’

  Tatsu shrugged. ‘There have been a couple who got lucky with a fashion trend, but you’re basically correct. It’s not easy being human these days. Universal basic income was brought in because it’s hard to find work generally, and it’s worse in Chiba.’

  ‘Bet that makes your job harder.’

  ‘It doesn’t exactly help, no.’

  Tokyo.

  ‘We have all the forensic reports in,’ Nakano said. ‘They’re in the case database.’

  Tatsu nodded across the desk at him. They were in Nakano’s office in Sakurada Gate, otherwise known as Tokyo Police Headquarters. It was named for the gate in the Imperial Palace which it sat opposite, and it was actually the second building to occupy the role and location. The first had been destroyed in the war. The city had taken the opportunity to modernise and rationalise, so Sakurada Gate now housed the National Police Agency HQ, the offices of the National Public Safety Commission, and a few other smaller agencies. It was a thirty-five-storey building covering its entire block, with a heliport and anti-aircraft defences on the roof. The exterior was clad in white stone, but beneath that was a heavily reinforced structure capable of withstanding a siege. Nakano’s office had a window overlooking the palace – if you craned your neck – and was bright and very clean. Tidy. Nakano’s office was very tidy.