Second Skin (57 page)

‘What is this?’ Tōrin whispered hoarsely without taking his eyes from the terrible but irresistible sight of a human being so grotesquely trussed and demeaned.

‘This,’ said Mick with the grand flourish of a ringmaster at a circus, ‘is Mikio Okami,
oyabun
of
oyabun,
the Kaisho.’

‘The Kaisho,’ Tōrin said, unable to wrench his gaze away. ‘I thought he was a myth.’

‘So was the concept of a round earth, once upon a time.’

At last, Tōrin tore his eyes away from the Kaisho and stared at Mick. He could see this man was clearly enjoying himself. ‘I don’t understand any of this.’

Mick was grinning madly. ‘All in good time.’ He gave that mock-bow again. ‘Michael Leonforte. I am in the process of making a leveraged buyout of Akinaga’s business.’

Tōrin goggled. ‘Akinaga-san is Yakuza. Even if I could believe he would willingly give up his leadership of the Shikei clan – which is quite out of the question – he could never designate you as
oyabun
to succeed him. You are gaijin.’

‘Fuck that. This is a brave new world – and a brave new world order. Wake up. You guys are no longer
ichiban,
no longer number one. The game is global now, buddy. Fuck,
everything’s
interconnected. Which means, if you’re clever enough, anything’s possible!’ Mick came and slung his arm around Tōrin’s shoulder, another horrendous breach of etiquette from which Tōrin literally cringed. Mick liked his discomfort just fine. ‘You better be ready to make alliances. Strategic partners are the only things that will save you.’ He squeezed Tōrin’s shoulder hard. ‘And, believe me, I’m not offended. When you get to know me better, you’ll understand that anything
is
possible for me.’

Tōrin broke free of Mick’s vile embrace and pointed to Mikio Okami. ‘Why have you done this?’

‘All part of the master plan, Tōrin-san, don’t you worry about that. You just concentrate on your part.’

Tōrin turned. ‘My part?’

‘Sure.’ Mick bobbed his head. ‘That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?’

‘I came to see Akinaga-san.’

‘Yessir, you did. You work for the great
oyabun,
don’t you.’ Mick spread his hands. ‘Which means you work for me now.’

‘Where is Akinaga-san?’ Tōrin asked, looking around. ‘I want to –’

He stopped, his heart a trip-hammer in his chest. The muzzle of a .38-caliber automatic was pressed hard against his temple.

‘Let’s get the ground rules straight. You don’t
want
anything anymore except to do what I tell you. Is that clear?’

Tōrin nodded.

‘You have been rising like a phoenix on Akinaga-san’s money and by his benevolent hand,’ Mick continued in a calm and studied tone. It was nothing short of miraculous, Tōrin thought dizzily, how Mick’s voice could change like the skin of a chameleon, evoking different and compelling emotions. ‘The hand that took you off the street, out of the Nihonin, the nouveau nihilists whose daddies worked too hard, made too much money, became too successful for their offspring to possibly emulate. So rather than compete with daddy and fail, you dropped out, joined mindless thrill-kill cults, slept days, drove endlessly through the nights, did drugs and sex, believed in nothing and tore yourself to shreds.’

There was a pause during which Tōrin tried unsuccessfully not to look at Mikio Okami’s tattooed body.

‘I would say that pretty well defined you when Akinaga-san took you off the streets,
neh?’

Tōrin, horrified, said nothing.

‘He gave you a home, provided you with an education and a purpose.’ Mick shrugged. ‘What more could you want or need?’ Then he laughed harshly. ‘I’ll tell you what. Fucking Akinaga’s a miser. Think he cares about you? Shit, no. He doesn’t care whether you live or die, as long as you’re of use to him. With me, the sky’s the limit, get me? You can make a fortune, and I mean that literally. You can even run things, if you’ve got the right attitude.’ He clutched Tōrin’s crotch. ‘And the balls for it. Interested?’

Tōrin nodded again.

Mick made the gun disappear.

‘Okay, then,’ Mick said, seemingly mollified. ‘Here’s the deal. You’re inside Sato International, which means you’re valuable to me. I control Denwa Partners.’ He laughed. ‘You should see your face, Tōrin-san. Don’t look so surprised. I’ve been manipulating events for quite some time. I whacked Rodney Kurtz, but not before I fucked his wife in as many places and positions as I could think of. Giai Kurtz despised her husband and she was all too pleased to vomit up all his secrets. I got Kurtz’s cut of Denwa from his estate, I overruled the one piece of opposition inside Denwa –’

‘You murdered Ise Ikuzo.’

‘Yah.’ Mick licked his chops. ‘And I did a fine job of it, too.’ He laughed. ‘Who d’you think called for tomorrow’s meeting between Linnear and the Denwa Partners? Yours truly. That’s when I take control of everything – Denwa, the CyberNet, Sato International.’

Tōrin’s eyes followed Mick as he began to move. ‘I don’t believe you.’

Mick went to a sideboard. As he passed Okami, he punched him casually in the stomach. Okami gave a low groan. Mick went to a small metal surgical table on which were a line of vials and test tubes. He poured some liquids into two small teacups, brought them over to where Tōrin stood. He held them out.

‘Okay. One’s got colored water in it. The other has some of what was fed to Kappa Watanabe, your tech.’ He hooked a thumb. ‘Also the great Kaisho here.’ He smiled benignly. ‘It’s called Banh Tom. Care to try some?’

Tōrin recoiled. ‘What is it?’

‘As I said, it’s only colored water.’

‘No, the other one.’

Mick shrugged. ‘You said you didn’t believe me when I told you I was going to take control of Sato tomorrow.’

‘I
can’t
believe it.’

‘You mean you
won’t
believe it.’ Mick frowned, turning pensive. ‘Why is it human beings refuse to believe the evidence in front of their eyes? What makes the mind create safe little kingdoms of its own when the world is such a
very
dangerous place?’ Again, he offered the two cups. ‘Okami-san’s being slowly poisoned with a very nasty brew I discovered in Vietnam. You don’t believe me and it’s important that you do. So drink up!’

‘I believe you,’ Tōrin said, not making a move. He was wide-eyed and his pulse was jumpy.

‘No you don’t. I see that look in your eyes and I
know.’
Quick as a wink he flipped one wrist, downed the contents of one cup. He let it drop to the floor and smacked his lips. Then his hand whipped out and, strong as wound leather, gripped Tōrin’s wrist.

Slowly, inexorably, he drew Tōrin toward him. ‘Drink,’ he said, shoving the second cup into Tōrin’s face.
‘Drink!’
he commanded. The porcelain of the cup clicked against Tōrin’s front teeth.

‘It’s join or be trampled underfoot, Tōrin-san.’ Mick grinned. ‘It’s now or never. I am the future. What do you say?’

Tōrin opened his mouth, either in protest or in acquiescence, and with a little practiced flip Mick dumped the pale amber liquid down his throat. Tōrin coughed and almost choked. He wanted to vomit but Mick clamped his jaws tightly shut.

‘You’re not gonna die from this, stupid,’ Mick hissed into Tōrin’s ear. ‘But you
will
become a believer.’

Abruptly, he let go, and Tōrin stood swaying slightly, staring at Mick as he went in and out of focus. Tōrin blinked heavily. He wanted to move but his legs felt like lead weights. He lifted an arm instead, found to his horror that it was trembling in palsy. It was as if he had aged fifty years. The thought was terrifying. He stood, trying only to breathe, hearing the labored pulse of his blood pumping through his arteries and veins, slowing like a grandfather clock someone had forgotten to wind down.

And then, with an almost audible
pop!
he snapped back to normal. His pulse increased, his blood raced through his veins, and he could move again. He looked inquiringly, mutely, at Mick, who winked and nodded at him.

‘Yup. Take too much of that baby and you don’t come back, get me?’

Tōrin, petrified with fear, stared at Mick as if he had just grown another head.

‘Now you know there’s no turning back. Nangi and Linnear aren’t going to return to their co-chairmanship of Sato International. Not ever. Have you got that fixed in your mind?’

Tōrin swallowed hard and nodded. ‘Linnear has a plan for the Denwa Partners meeting tomorrow morning. He believes we will lose control of the CyberNet and perhaps even the
keiretsu
itself.’

‘In that he is quite correct. But he has already lost control of the situation; nothing he can do now will stop the inevitable from occurring.’ Mick pulled Tōrin close. ‘’Cause here’s my intention come tomorrow .morning. I have Denwa Partners sewed up, so whatever I propose they’ll go along with, but I need someone inside Sato to back me. You have Nangi’s confidence, everyone knows that. The division vice presidents have no real power outside their own
kobun.
That’s the way Nangi and Linnear set things up and I don’t blame them. But the bottom line is the vice presidents have no power to fight me. And when you approve of my becoming interim chairman –’

‘Haven’t you forgotten Nicholas Linnear?’

‘No,’ Mick said, grinning like a wolf, ‘I haven’t forgotten him.’ He threw his arms wide to encompass the surreal-looking apartment with Mikio Okami hanging upside down like a side of Kobe beef. ‘That’s what this is all about, genius. It’s all about Nicholas Linnear.’

Nicholas and Tanaka Gin were walking down a street in Jimbō-chō, the booksellers’ district of Shitamachi. During business hours every kind of book could be found here, from the most erudite scientific text to the greatest of literature to pure pornography.

It was raining lightly, almost a mist that floated straight down as if from heaven. It gave the streetlamps an almost surreal aura, as if they weren’t real at all but had been imagined by René Magritte.

‘It’s a lock. Mick Leonforte killed Ise Ikuzo,’ Nicholas said. ‘Which means he killed Rodney Kurtz and had Giai Kurtz killed as well.’ He told Tanaka Gin about his visit with Toyoda, the armorer.

‘Is it enough to arrest him?’

‘That’s more your expertise than mine. But we have this: Toyoda positively ID’d Mick from the Army photo you dug up, he made the push dagger from Mick’s own design, and he told me the thing was built so it could slash as well as puncture. I drew the blade signature for him and he confirmed that, as well. By the way, he said this thing could bring down a wild boar at full charge.’

Tanaka Gin gave a low whistle. ‘Just the right instrument for a Messulethe ritual.’

Nicholas nodded. ‘You bet.’

‘Then we have him.’

‘Maybe. If we can find him.’

‘Oh, we will.’ Tanaka Gin’s eyes were alight. ‘We’ll find him because he wants us to. He left the first clue at Mūdra by having Giai Kurtz killed outside. As I said, he had all of Tokyo to play with, why have her hit just outside a club he frequented? And why use a very special weapon to ritually slaughter his victims?’ Tanaka Gin stopped. ‘See, he knows you, Linnear-san. He knew you’d take a long hard look at Ikuzo’s wounds, and you’d know. I think he had the push dagger made by Toyoda-san
because
you know him.’

Nicholas nodded. ‘Go on.’

‘He’s playing a dark game, dancing all around you, getting closer and closer, like a moth to a flame.’

‘And when he gets too close?’

Tanaka Gin shrugged. ‘Who knows?’

Nicholas thought this over while they continued to walk. At last, he said, ‘There’s something else. Just before I met you, I followed Kanda Tōrin, the young executive at Sato, to a bar in Toshima-ku, and then to a building in Roppongi that overlooked the Nogi Jinja. Tōrin went into it.’ He described in detail the location and appearance of the building, there being no actual addresses in Tokyo.

‘We’ve caught a break. I know who he went to see,’ Tanaka Gin said. ‘It was Tetsuo Akinaga.’

‘Are you certain?’

Tanaka Gin nodded. ‘I have made a study of his life. He owns many businesses, most under false identities or shell corporate names. About three years ago, another of these phony companies came to our attention. This one, however, seemed to have no particular use. Until, that is, I probed a bit more deeply. It seems as if Akinaga has been using it to buy a series of apartments all over the city. He uses them all from time to time. This is one of them.’

‘So I was right to distrust Tōrin. He’s working for Akinaga.’

‘It would seem so.’

Nicholas shook his head. ‘How did he fool Nangi-san so thoroughly? Nangi-san is such a good judge of character.’

‘It’s not all bad news. At least now you know the face of the enemy.’

‘The faces, you mean.’ Nicholas looked at Tanaka Gin. ‘It seems, my friend, we are faced with many enemies.’

Guided by the information he had gotten from Mikio Okami, Nicholas led them to a side street. Bright lights glowed from windows. In people’s homes, TVs were on, everyone sitting around after dinner, watching the news or one of those silly game shows where every contestant was eager to humiliate himself in front of ten million people.

It was an ordinary street in every way, just like thousands of others throughout the city, and Tanaka Gin felt a brief but distinct pang. How easily this could have been his life – a small apartment on a quiet side street, a wife and two children, dinners home every night, weekend outings, two vacations a year – skiing in Hokkaido, sunning in Hawaii – a bond fund for his children’s education. Simple, neat, comfortable.

Tanaka Gin found that he had broken out into a cold sweat. He imagined animals in their zoo cages felt much the same way – just as he imagined his enigmatic companion also felt.

They reached the address he had been given and rang the bell beneath which was a neatly lettered name:
J.
KANAGAWA.
They were buzzed in and, a moment later, were outside the door to Kanagawa’s apartment.

Kanagawa turned out to be a distinguished-looking gentleman in his midsixties, with silver hair and mustache, a round face, and robust body. He greeted them formally, introduced them to his wife and his twelve-year-old grandson, who was visiting them, and then led Nicholas and Tanaka Gin into his study.