mission report for imifumei (part 2 of 2)
Back to Part 1
--
In The Bowery, “Skid Row”, on the corner of Ludlow and East Houston Street.
Jun chomped off a mouthful of rye bread and roast beef, chewing it rigorously as he watched a familiar figure climb out of a taxicab on Houston. He swallowed as Satoshi stepped up onto the sidewalk, looking around at the Delicatessen on the corner and the small crowd milling out of its doors. Jun crumpled the wrapping of his sandwich around his supper’s remains and chucked it into the trash bin a few feet away, raising his free arm to catch his partner’s attention.
Satoshi smiled sheepishly, jogging across the distance between them with his hands in his coat pockets. “Sorry I kept you waiting, Jun.”
Jun turned, letting Satoshi fall into step beside him as he started trudging down the dark sidewalk of Ludlow, leaving the bustle of Houston Street and Katz’s Delicatessen behind. ‘Landscape I’m Seeing’ Productions would supposedly be filming some night scenes along that stretch of narrow street that evening. “You didn’t show up at the office this morning, and you didn’t answer your phone.” He frowned. “I had to leave for Brighton Beach without you.”
“Yeah, I got your message. Sorry, I was up late, and then I overslept.” He sighed and then turned to Jun curiously. “Did the Nishikido family give us anything useful to work with?”
Jun’s frown darkened. “No, not at all. They can’t think of anybody who would have a grudge against him. And now I’ve upset a still-grieving family by implying that their son’s unfortunate murder might have been premeditated.” He shook his head at himself reproachfully. “And it was a damn long drive too.”
“I guess that explains why we’re harassing the film crew again.” Satoshi grumbled. “All we’ve got is Sakurai to go by.”
Jun turned his gaze to him, one eyebrow raised. “Not just Sakurai. He and Ninomiya were the last people to see Mr. Nishikido alive.”
“I think Ninomiya’s just another victim.” Satoshi countered with a crease in his brow. “He showed up at the office last night, too afraid to go home because Sakurai was looking for him.”
“You were with Ninomiya last night?” Jun exclaimed in an undertone. “Kazunari Ninomiya?”
Satoshi nodded. “I let him stay at my place, and he-“
“Ohno.” Jun stopped dead in his tracks, expression dark and disbelieving. “Are you crazy? He’s part of our investigation. You can’t just let him into your-“
Satoshi fixed him with a serious look. “He was really scared, Jun. He had nowhere else to go.” He lowered his voice; sure they were catching looks from the few passersby within earshot. “What should I have done? Sent him back to Sakurai without caring if that meant he’d end up dead or not?”
“Did he say Sakurai was trying to kill him? Because for all you know they were just having a little lover’s quarrel, and you’ve gone and gotten dragged into the middle of it.”
“No, he fell asleep before he could give me details, but he was shaking like a leaf in his sleep. He looked like a scared kid cured up on my couch”
“He’s no kid.” Jun warned. “Hell, he’s no younger than I am.”
“Jun.” Ohno said firmly. “There’s something going on there. You don’t get wracked with nightmares because your boyfriend’s a little bothered with you. You said yourself that Sakurai was suspicious. We already know he’s got one dark secret to hide from the public, Ninomiya is evidence of that, but what if there’s something darker and messier?”
“Sakurai is suspicious because he didn’t want us to know about Nishikido, but I highly doubt that he killed him.” Jun reasoned. “Maybe Sakurai’s more twisted than we know, sure, but he doesn’t have a motive for killing Nishikido. It wouldn’t make any sense for him to be the murderer.”
“It would hurt his business, you’re right about that. But if he flew into a rage about something, Nishikido might have been in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
Jun shook his head and began walking again. “You’re trying to paint him like an out of control monster now, simply based on the fact that the assistant he’s having an illicit relationship with has nightmares. You don’t even know what the nightmares were about.”
“I’m going way out on a limb here, I know that. But Jun, if it’s possible-…”
“I’m humoring the idea,” Jun conceded, “but think about this for a second, will you? If Sakurai had killed Nishikido, then why the paranoia about protecting his other actors? He’s spending money to have them protected, money he obviously cares immensely about, but why would he bother if he was the person he was protecting them from?”
Satoshi frowned and worried his lip. “… You’re right about that.” He admitted. “The only explanation would be that it’s an elaborate attempt to appear innocent…”
Jun nodded. “Or that he honestly didn’t do it.” He paused at the intersection of Stanton Street before crossing. Ahead, they could hear a voice yell ‘Action!’ and then the roaring of an engine. “In any case, you should talk to Mr. Ninomiya again.”
On the street a couple buildings ahead, a van screeched to a halt just long enough to shove a bound and bloody body out of the door before roaring off again. “Cut!” Sakurai yelled, and then the detectives’ view was blocked by the camera crew closing in for a closer shot of the victim struggling on the sidewalk. “Remember, you’re in so much pain you’re almost delirious.” They could still hear Sakurai explaining, sounding impassioned as he gave the actor directions. “You’re terrified, you’re frustrated, and you feel completely helpless. Focus on that sense of helplessness. Good, good. Roll camera!”
Behind them came a soft gasp, and the two detectives turned. Ninomiya was staring at them with a creased brow and wide eyes, frozen in the process of carrying a tray of coffees onto the set. “…You shouldn’t be here.” He hissed, snapping out of his surprise and approaching them. He caught a passing make-up artist by the arm and handed her the coffees. “Bring these to the director for me? Tell him I’ll be back in a minute.”
She took them with a confused frown, balancing them awkwardly on her arm.
“We’re here on business.” Jun explained.
Ninomiya didn’t look at all pleased. “Do you realize that every time you harass my boss you make things hard for all of us?”
“How so?” Jun pried, interested. “Does he lose his temper? Yell? Push you around?”
“No,” Ninomiya looked taken aback. “It just puts him in a terrible tense mood, and it makes the filming go badly. He said it’s hard to get into the spirit of filmmaking when his set is being treated like a crime scene.”
“You’d think that would improve the mood, seeing as this is a crime picture…”
“Detective, I don’t know why you’re prying into this, but somebody died, you know. It’s upsetting for people if you make light of it… People will be offended.”
“It’d be bad for business, right? I get it.” Jun nodded. “Your boss doesn’t want bad publicity around the film. Is that why he covered it up?”
“Covered it--…?!” Ninomiya exclaimed, looking scandalized. “He’s not covering anything up. What could he possibly be covering up?”
Jun gave Satoshi a pat on the shoulder. “You handle him. I’m going to find Sakurai.”
“Wait, please don’t bother him tonight!” Ninomiya begged, looking alarmed. Satoshi had to catch his arm to keep him from chasing after the other detective. “The shoot’s going well today!”
“Don’t worry, I’ll tell him you tried to stop me.” Jun called over his shoulder as he ambled away.
“… We should talk about last night.” Satoshi said after a long moment of silence.
Ninomiya turned back to face him, looking frustrated but worn out. “I’m sorry I showed up out of nowhere like that.”
“You never did explain why.” Satoshi pointed out. Ninomiya was silent, so he glanced towards the noisy, bustling, film set. “…Will they miss you if you disappear for a little bit?” He asked, and then gestured to the relatively empty and quiet stretch of street behind them. “We could go for a walk.”
Ninomiya considered this for a long moment and then nodded, albeit hesitantly. “All right. But not for too long.”
Satoshi bought them each a coffee at the shop around the corner on Stanton, and they continued walking East as they began to talk.
“… I’m from Jersey.” Ninomiya started. I moved over to Manhattan when I was twenty-one, back in 1934. I loved the film industry, see? I was infatuated with it. I thought I’d have a better chance of makin’ it in the movies if I came across the bridge, since I couldn’t afford to go to Hollywood.” He took a sip of his coffee, looking pensive and a little lost in his thoughts. “When you’re 21, you’re still a stupid kid. It’s worse than being a kid, because you think you’re a grown up. You don’t realize how naïve you are…” He raised his gaze and narrowed his eyes down one of the South-running streets they passed. “I lived not too many blocks from here, a little deeper into the Bowery. I was having a hard time getting work in any pictures, and I was barely scraping by with a job serving drinks in a-… well, in an unsavory sort of club a block from my apartment. Then one of the regulars approached me with an offer to be the male lead in a picture his friend was doing, said he thought I’d be good for the role… To make a long story short, it turned out it wasn’t a legal sort of picture -if you know what I mean.” His lip curled wryly. “I did it anyway, though. I needed the cash. I actually ended up doing three during the fall of that year. And then in ’35, I managed to get a part in a real deal picture. It was still a little wild, though, and it never made it past the censorship of the production code.
“And then I landed a tiny role in Sho Sakurai’s first production. He’d just inherited his father’s company and fortune, and he was struggling to make a name for himself in the industry with this picture. I only had two lines in the whole movie, but somehow I managed to meet him on the set and have a conversation with him…” He swallowed another mouthful of his coffee and paused for a moment before continuing. “And surprise, surprise. He’d happened to see a couple of my ‘first pictures’. You could say we bonded. Well, the both of us were trying to fit in somewhere, and our personalities got along all right. By the time the film wrapped up and went to cinemas, we were pretty much friends. And that’s our story.”
Satoshi raised an eyebrow. “That doesn’t explain why you told me you were afraid of him last night. How you got to work for him, or why you two are-…Well, --”
“Sleeping together?” Ninomiya filled in, ignoring the detective’s mildly flustered reaction. “I don’t really remember if I slept with him before or after he offered me a job as his assistant. I don’t think it matters what happened first. I did both for the same reason: because I knew he liked me.”
Satoshi frowned. “And you didn’t feel the same?”
He shook his head. “I still don’t.” He paused, studying the detective’s surprised expression with an unreadable one of his own. “…You probably think I’m heartless. It’s true, I let him hire me and bed me because I realized how much of a liking he’d taken to me, and I knew that he was going to be a big name. That movie was a hit, and almost every film he’s done since has been as well. You can understand what I was thinking. The closer I was to him, the better chances I thought I would have to break into the acting world. He was a valuable connection, my ticket to stardom, so I could put up with him showing up at my apartment at night and going back to his normal life during the day. I didn’t mind giving him what he wanted, because I figured I’d get what I wanted in the end.”
“So you were only ever using him.”
Ninomiya nodded, slowing to a stop. “But I was blinded… I put up with him because I wanted fame so badly, I didn’t care what I had to do to get it…” He paused. “But he’s never even treated me well. It’s like… I’m his pet. Locked up and fetching this or that for him, running here and there at his beck and call. I’ve never been rewarded for my years of loyalty to him, and it’s been years since he treated me like he cared. I’m just convenient, and with every year my novelty is fading. I don’t want to give up on my dream, but I’m tired, Detective. I don’t want to play this charade any longer.”
“But then why not leave?” Satoshi questioned, frowning at the depiction of the twisted relationship. “You could find work elsewhere. If he doesn’t value your relationship anymore, he should be willing to let you go.”
Ninomiya shook his head fervently. “No, that’s why I’m scared. He doesn’t treat me like something he cares for, because he treats me like something he owns. I’m scared of what he might do if I tried to leave. He’s rough as it is, Detective.” He said and then hesitated before pushing up the sleeve of his coat, revealing a small collection of fading bruises and healing scrapes. “Pets that try to run away get punished if they’re caught.”
--
“Mr. Sakurai.” Jun greeted, and then continued before the suddenly wary producer/director could complain. “You seem like you’re enjoying this scene, aren’t you?”
“… It’s a climactic part of the film.” Sakurai explained tersely. “And it’s turning out well. Can I help you with anything this time?”
“I want to clarify something. You were in your office the night Ryo Nishikido died.”
“Yes,” He answered, sounding exasperated, “I worked late.”
“With Mr. Ninomiya.”
“…Yes.”
“And are you sure that you were working on something ‘decent’? Because, in my experience, you and Ninomiya have been known to get up to inappropriate behavior when left alone in there. Correct?”
Sakurai paled, and his gaze flickered around nervously. “…Detective,” He started, taking a few steps away from the crowd. “I assumed you’d have enough tact not to bring up that incident. You must realize that my career, my life, would be ruined if it got out that I-… that I was-“
“Can I assume, then, that Mr. Nishikido was tactless enough not to keep his mouth shut?”
“E-Excuse me?” The producer spluttered, looking thoroughly thrown off by that comment.
“The story was that he came into your office that night to tell you he was leaving. Did he walk in on something he shouldn’t have? If he had, of course, you would need to shut him up before he ruined you. I understand.”
Sakurai gaped at him, completely aghast. “Are-… Are you trying to suggest that I killed him?”
Jun shrugged. “Did you?”
The producer gaped for a moment longer before letting out a hesitant chuckle, as if he thought Jun might even be joking. “…Why would I do that? That-… That doesn’t even make sense. He was one of my leading actors. I’m not crazy enough to kill one of my own leads.”
“Not even if it would save your career from ruin? Maybe he was trying to blackmail you. Was he asking for a higher salary, Mr. Sakurai? I could reason it. Replacing one actor would be easier than losing your career and having your name besmirched in the industry.”
“But I didn’t kill-…” Sakurai began, starting to sound upset by the allegations. He glanced at their surroundings again and then pulled the detective aside, and under the awning of a dilapidated café. “If you plan to accuse me of murder based on completely out-there speculations and no proof-“
“I don’t really think you killed him.” Jun announced. “I doubt it. But, I’m fairly convinced that you have something to do with this case. I don’t believe he was mugged. I think it was set up to look like a mugging, and I think you have something to do with that. Don’t you?”
Again, Sakurai was struck momentarily speechless. “…Why? Why would I do that?” He demanded to know, but he looked and sounded uncertain this time.
Jun grinned. “Because, you’re trying to protect this film. You probably don’t know who killed him, but you think he was targeted because he was in your production. That’s why you have hired security people to tail your stars. You made his murder look like a mugging to take the negative press away from focusing on the truth, because the truth would make your picture look bad… How am I doing here? Close? Hitting the nail on the head?” He chuckled; Sakurai was ghostly pale and practically buzzing with tension. “What’s the truth, Mr. Sakurai? What facts about his death have you been keeping to yourself?”
Sakurai took a deep breath, and when he let it out his whole body sagged. He leaned back against the brick wall of the little entranceway they were crammed in. His gaze fell, and his shoulders slumped. “… If you’re right about what I’ve done, will I go to jail?” He asked quietly, and Jun thought he sounded like a broken man.
“I’m not a cop, really, so I can’t be bothered with that.” He answered. “I just want to find the murderer.”
Sakurai sighed shakily. “… He wasn’t mugged. I found his body in the studio when I was leaving late that night, and I didn’t want people to start speculating that a member of the cast or crew had done it, so I… I put his body in my car, and dumped him in that alley. I emptied his wallet because I thought it would make it look less suspicious…” He sounded tearful.
“You have no idea who could have done it?” Jun asked.
Sakurai shook his head slowly. “No, Ninomiya and I were in my office for most of the night, so we didn’t see who else was around or had left. Somebody could have come in off the street and killed him, if they wanted to. The light was on in the room where he’d been practicing his script, and I saw him when I went to turn it off. I told Ninomiya to go on ahead, and waited until I was the only one left before I decided to deal with it.” He choked a little, and raised his watery gaze to the detective’s. “I feel horrible about it, you know. I think it’s been driving me crazy. You said you could justify killing an actor to protect my career… but I can’t. This is bad enough.”
Jun nodded, feeling like he should try to comfort the man, but not having the faintest notion of how to go about it. “Thanks for your cooperation this time.” He said instead, giving the producer an awkward pat on the arm. “I probably won’t harass you anymore while you’re filming.” He walked away, and behind him he heard Sakurai give a dry, humorless, laugh.
The crew seemed to be packing up the equipment. The hour was late, and the shoot was over. Everyone looked tired and busy, and none of them spared him more than a second glance as he weaved through the crowd in search of Satoshi and Ninomiya. They were nowhere to be seen, and he wouldn’t be surprised if they’d taken off together. He scowled, worried about the company his partner was starting to keep.
“Detective Matsumoto!” Exclaimed an exuberant voice to his left, disrupting his train of thought. Jun nearly jumped out of his skin when he turned towards the voice and came face to face with a bruised and bloodied mess. A second look determined that the mess was just on the person’s face, and was clearly all cosmetics.
“Masaki.” He greeted simply, still trying to calm his racing heart rate. Two makeup girls caught up to the actor and continued swabbing away the mess on his face. He’d already changed into regular clothes, but from his head alone Jun recognized him from earlier. “So you were the one getting tossed out of the van.”
“Yeah, it was my first time doing my own stunt.” He laughed breathily. “It was the scene where the bad guys release me, after I’ve been kidnapped and beaten.”
“I see that.” Jun nodded towards the red and purpled discoloration on his skin. “You were very realistic. I heard Mr. Sakurai was pleased with your performance.”
“Was he?” Aiba beamed at the praise. “I’m glad!”
Jun nodded awkwardly and glanced back across the crowd. Still no sign of Satoshi, and he was feeling too tired and satisfied with his new information to wait around any longer. “I have to get going, but it was nice to see you again.” Aiba reached out to shake his hand, warmly replying with similar pleasantries, but Aiba’s sleeves were pushed up to his elbows, and Jun was distracted by the multiple long, red, marks on his tanned forearm. “Oh,” His gaze flickered to the makeup girls, “there’s still some makeup here…” He pointed.
The girls both frowned down at the marks. Aiba looked too and then raised his eyes, crinkled with laughter, to Jun’s again. “No, those are just scratches.” He assured him.
“…Scratches?” Jun repeated, brows pulling together.
‘…the kid still fought back. There was dried blood under his nails…’
“Yeah, you know.” Aiba continued obliviously. “Those dogs you met last time, they jump up a lot… Don’t worry though,” Aiba reassured him happily. “Some of the scratches were deep, but they’re almost healed now.”
Jun swallowed slowly, still frowning. The last of the gruesome makeup had been wiped away. Jun looked at Aiba’s soft doe eyes and the wide smile so full of warmth, and all it did was send a cold shiver through his bloodstream.
“Good night, Mr. Aiba.” He muttered, turning on his heel and putting as much distance between himself and the other man as quickly as possible.
--
516 West 47th Street, at the office of Private Detectives Matsumoto and Ohno.
“Good afternoon.” Satoshi greeted, looking up from the paperwork on his desk as Jun entered the office.
Jun frowned, snapping out of his thoughts at Satoshi’s voice. “You disappeared yesterday. …Were you out all night with Ninomiya?”
Ohno shook his head, looking mildly affronted by Jun’s snappish tone. “No, we wandered away from the set and decided to call it a night. We took separate cabs… How did things go with Sakurai?”
Jun sighed heavily. “Well, we have progress. He admitted to setting it up to look like a mugging. Apparently he found the body in the actual studio. So, I think it’s safe to say that we’re dealing with a fan or a co-worker, or else someone else who would have known he was working and that the studio was mostly unoccupied at that time… Other than that, we’re not much closer to finding a suspect.”
“You don’t think Sakurai did it?” Satoshi frowned.
Jun shook his head and then hummed thoughtfully. He lit up a cigarette and leaned against the front of his desk. “Did I mention to you that Nishikido managed to scratch his attacker-?“
“Excuse me, Sir. You can’t-!“ Called their secretary’s voice from the waiting room, just a moment before the office door burst open. Ninomiya was on the other side, looking red-faced and wild, and their secretary stood behind him looking concerned and apologetic. “Uh, you have a visitor, Detectives…” She said uncertainly as Ninomiya began stalking into the room.
“Ninomiya?” Satoshi began, pushing back his chair and getting to his feet. “What happened to you?”
“That-that bastard is-“ He broke off, gasping for air as though he was on the edge of hyperventilating.
“Easy!” Jun exclaimed, taking the cigarette from his mouth. “Calm down before you hurt yourself.”
“How many- how many years, have I stuck with- h-him just to have him-?!”
Satoshi came round the front of his desk and caught Ninomiya by the arm before he could collapse. The assistant’s eyes were bloodshot and red with angry, unshed tears. “Come on, we’ll go get some fresh air.”
Jun followed them down to the sidewalk out front. Ninomiya stayed quiet, just breathing erratically, until Satoshi had sat him down on the curb. “Now then,” Jun began, exhaling a lungful of smoke. “What on earth is going on?”
Ninomiya took a deep shuddering breath, hands clenched into fists in his lap. “Sho is-… he just announced to everyone today that- that he’s ‘done’. He’s calling off the movie, he’s giving up the company. I-… I can’t believe I stuck with him for so many years just to get screwed over like this.” He gasped in another deep breath, and Satoshi made an attempt to rub his back soothingly. “Worse! He has the guts to act like I should feel bad for him. Like he expected me to console him or something. I-… I stormed out. I couldn’t stand being there any longer.”
“… Your relationship problems aside,” Jun spoke up, “How did the other cast and crew react?”
Ninomiya shrugged helplessly. “Shocked, angry. People were stunned at first… and then they started complaining.”
“Masaki Aiba?” Jun continued casually.
Ninomiya frowned thoughtfully. “Masaki… Masaki got really upset. He said that this had finally been his chance to make it somewhere -lucky bastard-, and now everything he’d worked for was going to waste… He went on like that for awhile, and then said something about going to try and convince Sho to change his mind later. Something dramatic like that, he always seemed way more emotional than the average person… Why?”
“And your reaction wasn’t dramatic or emotional?” Ohno teased gently, raising an eyebrow at the assistant.
Ninomiya frowned. “I’m much more attached to this situation than he is though.”
“Was Sakurai at the studio?”
“He was. Don’t know if he’d bother hanging around though…”
“Thanks. I’ll talk to you later, Satoshi.” Jun dropped the cigarette, grinding it out beneath his heel as he strode away.
--
537 West 20th Street, Sakurai’s office at the ‘Landscape I’m Seeing’ Productions Studio.
Outside the office window, the sun was sinking towards the Hudson. Jun had spent the afternoon going from one place to another. Sakurai had not been at his office, nor had his receptionist known where he went. She said Aiba had come by earlier, there had been raised voices, and she thought the young actor had left in frustrated tears. Jun had gone to Aiba’s apartment but found that he wasn’t home, and his landlord told him Aiba had given notice that he would have his things moved out before the end of the month. At a loss, Jun had decided to return to the production studio and dug around the office until he came across a certain security agent’s phone number. Thankfully, the man answered.
“Toma Ikuta? This Private Detective Jun Matsumoto… I need to find Aiba, or Sakurai. As soon as possible.”
Toma explained that Sakurai had called him off the job at the same time that he broke his big news to everyone else. Aiba had, indeed, been distraught.
“When I left him, he said he was going to tie off some loose ends and give up on New York. Probably heading back to his hometown I guess.”
“Tonight?”
“I guess… that’s what it sounded like.”
Jun cursed, thanked the security agent as briefly and courteously as he could, and slammed the phone receiver into the stand. If Aiba was going back to Chicago, he had every intention of catching him before he got on that train.
On the street outside, he ran to the corner of Eleventh Ave. and hailed the first cab that approached. “To Grand Central, please.” He panted, slamming the door shut behind him.
He could only hope Aiba’s loose ends had nothing to do with Sakurai going missing.
--
516 West 47th Street, at the office of Private Detectives Matsumoto and Ohno.
“I’m glad you’re calmed down now.” Satoshi commented from his desk, watching Ninomiya watch the sunset through the window.
Ninomiya turned and smiled at the detective. “Yeah, I think I’m starting to see my life clearly for the first time in a while. I know what options I have.”
“Really? That’s good.”
Ninomiya wandered back over and perched on the edge of the desk. “I don’t have to feel powerless anymore.” His lips curled again, showing a flash of bright white teeth. The dying sunlight lit the room in a fiery orange and gold color. It reflected bright in Ninomiya’s piercing eyes and off his pale skin, making his moles and the dark hair on his head stand out starkly in contrast.
“I can’t understand why you ever let him control you. You don’t come off like the average fairy-type.”
Ninomiya laughed sharply. “Well, I’m not. But kissing men isn’t so bad.”
Satoshi raised his eyebrows. “Seriously?”
Ninomiya nodded. “It’s not really different from kissing a woman. Lips are lips, after all.”
There was a long awkward pause. They both stared at each other, Satoshi attempting to avert his eyes several times but finding his gaze continued to return to that thin, curved, smile.
“… Can I kiss you, Detective Ohno?” He asked quietly, leaning forward until the only thing keeping him from falling forwards onto the detective was the hand on the back of the chair Satoshi was sitting on.
Satoshi didn’t dare answer the question. Ninomiya’s eyes, so close to his own, were closed and Satoshi felt his own fluttering to do the same. And then Ninomiya’s lips pressed against his, tentative for only a moment before pressing back again, slow but firm. He felt Ninomiya exhale against him, and parted his own lips a little, reaching a hand up to finger the color of Ninomiya’s button up. He tasted of cigarettes and sweat, his cheek was the slightest bit rough with stubble, and his kisses were strong and demanding. Kissing Ninomiya wasn’t much like kissing a woman, but it still wasn’t bad.
The detective felt a little dazed by his findings when the other man pulled back and met his gaze. “I want to leave Sakurai, for good.” He murmured, reaching out to swipe a thumb gently across Satoshi’s bottom lip. The corner of Ninomiya’s mouth curled into a small smile before he spoke again. “Will you help me get some of my things from his house?” He asked softly. The sunlight reflected in his irises looked like fire. “I don’t want to go alone.”
Ninomiya’s short fingers slipped into Satoshi’s hair, and there was no way he could even consider refusing.
--
Grand Central Terminal
By the time he got out of the taxi and into the main concourse, the sun had already disappeared. The Twentieth Century Ltd. Train, going from New York to Chicago, was already boarding at platform twelve.
Jun cursed his luck and ran clear across the concourse, not caring if he looked like a madman.
There was a line of people boarding when he burst onto the platform, panting and panicked. He ran his eyes over the figures in the crowd, none catching his attention, until he saw the end of a blood red umbrella poking out of someone’s suitcase. Jun jogged down the platform, reached out and grabbed the man by the shoulder.
Masaki Aiba turned around with a soft gasp of surprise, his wide eyes were a little puffy, and his face looked weary without his usual grin. “Detective Matsumoto…?” He questioned, confused. “How did you know that I was-…?”
Jun shook his head sadly. “I didn’t want to believe it. You seemed like the least likely sort, but it makes sense when I think about it. You had the motive all along, didn’t you?” He nodded to himself grimly, not letting himself be fooled or softened by Masaki’s wide-eyed expression of innocent confusion. “Getting Nishikido out of the picture gave you your opportunity of a lifetime. If he hadn’t died, you wouldn’t have gotten your chance… I’m right, aren’t I? You know I am.”
Aiba looked horrified.
“But now, everything you risked so much for is falling apart. Everything you planned is being unraveled.” Jun met Aiba’s eyes sternly. The actor’s eyes were welling with tears, but Jun had to remember that Aiba was an actor, and also possibly very unstable. “Why are you leaving Aiba?” He wheedled, stepping into the taller man’s personal space. The platform was emptying as more people boarded the train. “What’s the hurry to take off? Is this your routine? You try to create your little dream world, and when it comes crashing down you try again somewhere else?” He narrowed his eyes. “What are you running from?”
Fat tears spilled over Aiba’s cheekbones, and he blinked furiously in an attempt to be rid of them. “I-…” He began, choked up. “I know it’s cowardly, but it’s really hard to come so c-close, and then have it all taken away from you…” He took a deep breath as though it would calm himself. “I thought it might be a good idea to go back to Chicago and try to start over.”
“I’m afraid I can’t let you do that.” Jun announced.
Aiba blinked in confusion for a moment. “…W-why not?”
It was Jun’s turn to blink. He’d thought that they were on the same page for a while now. “I’m looking for Sho Sakurai, what have you done with him?”
Aiba frowned. “I haven’t done anything… I went to his office this afternoon and begged him to reconsider giving up, but he said that he had too many personal issues to deal with.” His frown deepened. “Has something happened to him? A lot of the crew and cast members were mad at him… but I left after I talked to him.”
Jun frowned too. “But-… Then, did you kill Ryo Nishikido?”
Aiba’s frown morphed into an expression of shock and horror. “Of course not! I’ve never even met him!”
“…Come with me. I need to rethink everything.” He grabbed Aiba’s arm and began leading him off of the platform and back across the concourse.
The only evidence he’d had to go by were the scratches on Aiba’s arms and that he had a motive that worked, but the more he thought about it… the motive didn’t work after all. Jun considered this as the two of them piled into a cab with Aiba’s luggage. “516 West 47th, please.” He said before turning to the man beside him. “…Masaki, you said that the script said Tommy looked nothing like you do, didn’t you?”
Aiba nodded slowly, trying to catch on. “He was supposed to be kind of withdrawn, with pale skin, dark hair… not too muscular… Um…” He pouted thoughtfully. “Ghost-like, was how they described him.”
“…I can see Ryo playing a role like that, but why cast you?” Jun wondered aloud after several minutes had passed. “Nobody would expect someone exactly the opposite of the character to step in. And there’s got to be plenty of creepy pale guys around that Sakurai could have picked from, it’s not like they’re hard to come by. Hell, Ninomiya could easily have-“ He stopped short, heart skittering in his chest.
There was a long tense silence between them. To his right, Aiba was staring straight ahead with wide, shocked, eyes.
“…I heard, on set once, that Ninomiya used to be an actor before he started working for Sakurai…” Aiba spoke up, voice tiny and wavering.
Jun’s stomach felt like it had turned to lead, and he had the bills out to pay the cabbie with before the vehicle had even come to a complete stop.
--
27 Sutton place, at Sho Sakurai’s townhouse.
The lights were off in the building. Satoshi frowned up at the darkened windows. “…Maybe he’s not home. We can come back tomorrow, I don’t mind.”
Ninomiya reached into the flowerpot beside the door and, after a moment of digging around, pulled out a dirty silver key. He grinned triumphantly, brushed it off, and stuck it in the lock on the door.
“Ninomiya, wait.” Satoshi whispered. “We shouldn’t break in…”
The door opened with a click, and Ninomiya stepped into the entryway. “Come on.” He hissed. “We’ll be quick.”
Satoshi hesitated a moment longer before giving in and stepping into the house. It took a long minute to adjust to the darkness inside, and then he found Ninomiya had already wandered ahead into the large living area.
“Wow…” Ninomiya mused quietly to himself. “This is nice.”
Satoshi watched him crane his neck to look up the stairs before following him into the kitchen. “Has it changed since you were last here, or something?”
Ninomiya frowned at him for a second before nodding. “Yeah.” He answered and flashed a smile. He put his hands on his hips and surveyed the dark, polished cupboards. “Nice place, isn’t it?”
“Sure.” Satoshi agreed, uncomfortable with the whole situation. “What stuff did you need to get?”
“Oh…” Ninomiya looked around and then suddenly began opening and closing drawers. They banged shut loudly when he shoved them closed, and then he found one full of silverware and jostled that one around. “Maybe something in here…”
“Hey, hey!” Satoshi exclaimed, horrified at the noise. “Stop!” He grabbed the thinner man’s arms and prevented him from continuing, but in the silence afterwards clear footsteps could be heard on the level above them. Satoshi’s heart dropped into his stomach, and when he turned to Ninomiya, he was disturbed to find that the man had a faint smile on his lips. “Come on.” He demanded, pulling Ninomiya with him into the next room and ducking down on the floor to one side of the dining table.
The footsteps descended the stairs and moved warily towards the kitchen before pausing. For a long moment Satoshi could hear nothing but his own pulse and Ninomiya’s breathing hot against his ear. And then the light in the kitchen turned on. Satoshi held his breath and peeked out from under the table; he could see Sakurai standing in the kitchen, frowning at the open drawers. Slowly, the ex-producer reached out and pulled a knife from the knife block on the counter.
Satoshi felt all of his muscles tense with fear. Behind him Ninomiya had fallen still and silent too, or so he thought. Ninomiya suddenly leaned backwards, pushing a dining chair backwards on the floor to create a screeching noise. Satoshi felt nauseous with fright, but Ninomiya just laughed under his breath.
Sakurai’s gaze had fixed in their direction, so Satoshi stood slowly, pulling Ninomiya up behind him. “… Hello, Mr. Sakurai.” He greeted awkwardly.
Sakurai frowned at the detective, but his eyes widened when he saw Ninomiya. “…Kazunari?”
--
516 West 47th Street, at the office of Private Detectives Matsumoto and Ohno.
The secretary told them where Satoshi and Ninomiya had gone. “But why? Why would Satoshi agree? Ninomiya was so mad at Sakurai when I left…”
“He calmed down after you left. But I was told they were going to Mr. Sakurai’s because Ninomiya wanted to get some of his belongings back from him before they separated.”
Jun thought about that for a long moment.
“…But that doesn’t make sense, does it?” Aiba spoke up suddenly with a frown.
“How so?” Jun demanded to know.
“Well, Mr. Sakurai’s married. And he has children, I think.” Aiba pointed out. “…Would Ninomiya leave his belongings there if his and Sakurai’s relationship was secret?”
“It’s a set-up.” Jun growled, striding over to the phone on the secretary’s desk and dialing a number in. “Get me Sakurai’s address, right away.” He said to her before speaking into the phone. “Hi, this is Jun Matsumoto. Thank you…” He sighed, the secretary passed him a slip of paper with the address scrawled on it in pencil. “Oh, hello Sergeant.” He greeted the person on the phone. “Yeah, you said I should tell you if there’s murder involved in my investigations… Well, yes. If you don’t hurry over to 27 Sutton Pl., there might be one!”
--
27 Sutton place, at Sho Sakurai’s townhouse.
“He came to get his things.” Satoshi spoke up, but Sakurai’s frown only deepened.
“And to tell you that I’m not going to see you anymore.” Ninomiya chimed in.
Sakurai looked horrified. “What?... Why?! Because I don’t want to run the company anymore?”
“Yes.” Ninomiya answered seriously. “And because I’ve never loved you.”
Sakurai looked really shocked and heartbroken for someone who wasn’t in love, and Satoshi was actually feeling a little bad for him despite it all. Ninomiya was behaving strangely, and not trying at all to soften the blows.
“But, Kazunari-…” Sakurai started, sounding helpless and confused.
“You’re useless, Sho.” Ninomiya continued harshly. “You can’t do anything right, and I’m sick of putting up with you for no reason. I have Ohno now. I don’t need you anymore.”
“Hey, wait.” Satoshi spoke up, shocked at the sudden turn. “I’m not a part of this.”
But Ninomiya ignored him, pressed his lips to the side of Satoshi’s neck and let them linger there.
“You’re kidding me. For no reason? For no reason?!” Sakurai exclaimed, face turning red with anger. He stepped forward, kitchen knife still in hand. “For years now I’ve been nothing but good to you, and you know it!”
“So what if you have?! I’m still leaving.” Ninomiya announced before leaning in and whispering into Satoshi’s ear: “He has a knife! Get your gun out.”
Satoshi reached for his holster as a warning. “Calm down, Mr. Sakurai. We can just relax-“
“I don’t want to hear anything from you! Stay out of this!” Sakurai spat angrily, prompting him to actually draw the gun.
“Shoot him.” Ninomiya hissed in Satoshi’s ear. “He’s dangerous. Just shoot him.”
“Yeah, Detective. Do it! Why not!” Sakurai joined in, sounding mildly hysterical about the whole situation. “I don’t even care anymore! Just shoot me!” He roared, stepping forward and brandishing the knife. “Shoot me!”
Satoshi pulled the trigger. There was a crack and he felt it. Sakurai went down on the kitchen tiles with a howl of pain. Upstairs somewhere, a kid screeched in fright, and Ninomiya watched the blood pooling on the ground with awe until he realized that Sakurai had only been shot in the knee area.
“What? Why?!” He demanded. “You didn’t kill him!”
“The goal of coming here wasn’t to kill him!” Satoshi exclaimed shakily.
Ninomiya reached for the dropped knife, and Satoshi had to tackle him onto the ground to keep him from finishing the job. The knife slipped across the back of his hand at one point and left him hissing in pain, but after a bit more struggling he was able to pry the weapon free of Ninomiya’s fingers. In the distance, he could hear sirens approaching. Ninomiya’s sleeves got pushed up in the struggle, revealing the healing scratched and bruises. “But look! Look at what he did!” Ninomiya tried yelling and wriggling loose when he caught Satoshi staring at the marks.
Satoshi tossed the knife aside, and had to pin Ninomiya down on the floor before he could lunge after it again. “Leave it!” He exclaimed, horrified by the change that had come over the man. “Just leave it alone!”
The police arrived soon enough, along with paramedics. Ninomiya was restrained and Sakurai was strapped onto a stretcher and carried to a waiting ambulance.
“…You’ve never hurt him, have you?” Satoshi asked, walking with the medics as his hand was bandaged and Sakurai was lifted into the back of the vehicle.
Sakurai shook his head. “Never.” He breathed, struggling to stay conscious.
Satoshi believed him.
--
516 West 47th Street, at the office of Private Detectives Matsumoto and Ohno.
“I’m sorry about the misunderstanding before. Thank you for helping me figure it out in the end.”
Aiba wide smile and bright eyes accepted the train ticket and slipped it into the pocket of a green tweed overcoat. “Thank you. I’m glad I met you, Detective.”
Jun stood in the window of his office staring out at the dark, rain-washed, street where earlier a red umbrella had bobbed out of sight. The rain hit the windowpane and dribbled down in thick rivulets, distorting his view of the city beyond.
“Sakurai is recovering well. He’ll probably have a limp from now on, but he’ll survive. His family is coping with the stress of overhearing everything as well, and Satoshi is a little shaken but otherwise fine. His therapist thinks he’ll be ready to come back to work in a week or two, if he wants to.”
“That’s good.” Jun nodded pensively. “…And Ninomiya?”
“Trial’s end of next week.” The sergeant answered. “He confessed to Ryo Nishikido’s murder… Doctors don’t think he’s crazy though. He was really stressed out when we took him in, but not crazy. He hadn’t planned to kill Nishikido, but he was jealous and when Nishikido teased him about job, he snapped. He said the guilt of what he’d done and knowing that Sakurai was also being eaten with guilt over it messed him up a little bit over time.”
Jun sighed and turned away from the window, digging around in his pocket for a cigarette and lighter. “Well, at least the craziness of this one is getting us a lot of media attention.”
Oguri rolled his eyes. “I was going to suggest you try taking it easy for awhile, but you seem just as hard-hearted as you usually do.”
Jun stuck a cigarette between his teeth and grinned around it while he lit up. “What makes you so sure I have a heart, Shun?”
The sergeant chuckled and his smile softened. “Nobody paid you for that crazy case, Jun. But you did it anyway.”
Jun shrugged. “Sometimes it’s worth it to get paid in fame instead of cash. You hear they might make a picture about us?”
“Your character would never make it through the censorship.” Oguri retorted and then laughed. “Now, stop trying to be a tough guy for a minute and let me thank you.”
“A thank you?” Jun raised his eyebrows. “That’s a first. Satoshi will be sorry he missed this.”
“I’m sure he will.” Oguri straightened up and walked towards the door. “As always, try to stay out of trouble please?”
“Can’t make any promises, Sergeant.” Jun grinned crookedly. “Trouble tends to find me.”
No sooner had the sergeant left and Jun sat behind his desk when the secretary appeared at the door. “Mr. Matsumoto, there’s a lady here who wants you to find her brother. He’s eloped with a servant girl from their household.”
“Servant girls you say?” Jun raised an eyebrow. “Deep pockets?”
“Looks it, Sir.” The Secretary affirmed. “Think she’s wearing real fur. It’s quite over the top.”
“An eloping brother, huh.” Jun considered this and let his grin spread across his face once more. “Sounds like trouble… Send her in.”
--
In The Bowery, “Skid Row”, on the corner of Ludlow and East Houston Street.
Jun chomped off a mouthful of rye bread and roast beef, chewing it rigorously as he watched a familiar figure climb out of a taxicab on Houston. He swallowed as Satoshi stepped up onto the sidewalk, looking around at the Delicatessen on the corner and the small crowd milling out of its doors. Jun crumpled the wrapping of his sandwich around his supper’s remains and chucked it into the trash bin a few feet away, raising his free arm to catch his partner’s attention.
Satoshi smiled sheepishly, jogging across the distance between them with his hands in his coat pockets. “Sorry I kept you waiting, Jun.”
Jun turned, letting Satoshi fall into step beside him as he started trudging down the dark sidewalk of Ludlow, leaving the bustle of Houston Street and Katz’s Delicatessen behind. ‘Landscape I’m Seeing’ Productions would supposedly be filming some night scenes along that stretch of narrow street that evening. “You didn’t show up at the office this morning, and you didn’t answer your phone.” He frowned. “I had to leave for Brighton Beach without you.”
“Yeah, I got your message. Sorry, I was up late, and then I overslept.” He sighed and then turned to Jun curiously. “Did the Nishikido family give us anything useful to work with?”
Jun’s frown darkened. “No, not at all. They can’t think of anybody who would have a grudge against him. And now I’ve upset a still-grieving family by implying that their son’s unfortunate murder might have been premeditated.” He shook his head at himself reproachfully. “And it was a damn long drive too.”
“I guess that explains why we’re harassing the film crew again.” Satoshi grumbled. “All we’ve got is Sakurai to go by.”
Jun turned his gaze to him, one eyebrow raised. “Not just Sakurai. He and Ninomiya were the last people to see Mr. Nishikido alive.”
“I think Ninomiya’s just another victim.” Satoshi countered with a crease in his brow. “He showed up at the office last night, too afraid to go home because Sakurai was looking for him.”
“You were with Ninomiya last night?” Jun exclaimed in an undertone. “Kazunari Ninomiya?”
Satoshi nodded. “I let him stay at my place, and he-“
“Ohno.” Jun stopped dead in his tracks, expression dark and disbelieving. “Are you crazy? He’s part of our investigation. You can’t just let him into your-“
Satoshi fixed him with a serious look. “He was really scared, Jun. He had nowhere else to go.” He lowered his voice; sure they were catching looks from the few passersby within earshot. “What should I have done? Sent him back to Sakurai without caring if that meant he’d end up dead or not?”
“Did he say Sakurai was trying to kill him? Because for all you know they were just having a little lover’s quarrel, and you’ve gone and gotten dragged into the middle of it.”
“No, he fell asleep before he could give me details, but he was shaking like a leaf in his sleep. He looked like a scared kid cured up on my couch”
“He’s no kid.” Jun warned. “Hell, he’s no younger than I am.”
“Jun.” Ohno said firmly. “There’s something going on there. You don’t get wracked with nightmares because your boyfriend’s a little bothered with you. You said yourself that Sakurai was suspicious. We already know he’s got one dark secret to hide from the public, Ninomiya is evidence of that, but what if there’s something darker and messier?”
“Sakurai is suspicious because he didn’t want us to know about Nishikido, but I highly doubt that he killed him.” Jun reasoned. “Maybe Sakurai’s more twisted than we know, sure, but he doesn’t have a motive for killing Nishikido. It wouldn’t make any sense for him to be the murderer.”
“It would hurt his business, you’re right about that. But if he flew into a rage about something, Nishikido might have been in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
Jun shook his head and began walking again. “You’re trying to paint him like an out of control monster now, simply based on the fact that the assistant he’s having an illicit relationship with has nightmares. You don’t even know what the nightmares were about.”
“I’m going way out on a limb here, I know that. But Jun, if it’s possible-…”
“I’m humoring the idea,” Jun conceded, “but think about this for a second, will you? If Sakurai had killed Nishikido, then why the paranoia about protecting his other actors? He’s spending money to have them protected, money he obviously cares immensely about, but why would he bother if he was the person he was protecting them from?”
Satoshi frowned and worried his lip. “… You’re right about that.” He admitted. “The only explanation would be that it’s an elaborate attempt to appear innocent…”
Jun nodded. “Or that he honestly didn’t do it.” He paused at the intersection of Stanton Street before crossing. Ahead, they could hear a voice yell ‘Action!’ and then the roaring of an engine. “In any case, you should talk to Mr. Ninomiya again.”
On the street a couple buildings ahead, a van screeched to a halt just long enough to shove a bound and bloody body out of the door before roaring off again. “Cut!” Sakurai yelled, and then the detectives’ view was blocked by the camera crew closing in for a closer shot of the victim struggling on the sidewalk. “Remember, you’re in so much pain you’re almost delirious.” They could still hear Sakurai explaining, sounding impassioned as he gave the actor directions. “You’re terrified, you’re frustrated, and you feel completely helpless. Focus on that sense of helplessness. Good, good. Roll camera!”
Behind them came a soft gasp, and the two detectives turned. Ninomiya was staring at them with a creased brow and wide eyes, frozen in the process of carrying a tray of coffees onto the set. “…You shouldn’t be here.” He hissed, snapping out of his surprise and approaching them. He caught a passing make-up artist by the arm and handed her the coffees. “Bring these to the director for me? Tell him I’ll be back in a minute.”
She took them with a confused frown, balancing them awkwardly on her arm.
“We’re here on business.” Jun explained.
Ninomiya didn’t look at all pleased. “Do you realize that every time you harass my boss you make things hard for all of us?”
“How so?” Jun pried, interested. “Does he lose his temper? Yell? Push you around?”
“No,” Ninomiya looked taken aback. “It just puts him in a terrible tense mood, and it makes the filming go badly. He said it’s hard to get into the spirit of filmmaking when his set is being treated like a crime scene.”
“You’d think that would improve the mood, seeing as this is a crime picture…”
“Detective, I don’t know why you’re prying into this, but somebody died, you know. It’s upsetting for people if you make light of it… People will be offended.”
“It’d be bad for business, right? I get it.” Jun nodded. “Your boss doesn’t want bad publicity around the film. Is that why he covered it up?”
“Covered it--…?!” Ninomiya exclaimed, looking scandalized. “He’s not covering anything up. What could he possibly be covering up?”
Jun gave Satoshi a pat on the shoulder. “You handle him. I’m going to find Sakurai.”
“Wait, please don’t bother him tonight!” Ninomiya begged, looking alarmed. Satoshi had to catch his arm to keep him from chasing after the other detective. “The shoot’s going well today!”
“Don’t worry, I’ll tell him you tried to stop me.” Jun called over his shoulder as he ambled away.
“… We should talk about last night.” Satoshi said after a long moment of silence.
Ninomiya turned back to face him, looking frustrated but worn out. “I’m sorry I showed up out of nowhere like that.”
“You never did explain why.” Satoshi pointed out. Ninomiya was silent, so he glanced towards the noisy, bustling, film set. “…Will they miss you if you disappear for a little bit?” He asked, and then gestured to the relatively empty and quiet stretch of street behind them. “We could go for a walk.”
Ninomiya considered this for a long moment and then nodded, albeit hesitantly. “All right. But not for too long.”
Satoshi bought them each a coffee at the shop around the corner on Stanton, and they continued walking East as they began to talk.
“… I’m from Jersey.” Ninomiya started. I moved over to Manhattan when I was twenty-one, back in 1934. I loved the film industry, see? I was infatuated with it. I thought I’d have a better chance of makin’ it in the movies if I came across the bridge, since I couldn’t afford to go to Hollywood.” He took a sip of his coffee, looking pensive and a little lost in his thoughts. “When you’re 21, you’re still a stupid kid. It’s worse than being a kid, because you think you’re a grown up. You don’t realize how naïve you are…” He raised his gaze and narrowed his eyes down one of the South-running streets they passed. “I lived not too many blocks from here, a little deeper into the Bowery. I was having a hard time getting work in any pictures, and I was barely scraping by with a job serving drinks in a-… well, in an unsavory sort of club a block from my apartment. Then one of the regulars approached me with an offer to be the male lead in a picture his friend was doing, said he thought I’d be good for the role… To make a long story short, it turned out it wasn’t a legal sort of picture -if you know what I mean.” His lip curled wryly. “I did it anyway, though. I needed the cash. I actually ended up doing three during the fall of that year. And then in ’35, I managed to get a part in a real deal picture. It was still a little wild, though, and it never made it past the censorship of the production code.
“And then I landed a tiny role in Sho Sakurai’s first production. He’d just inherited his father’s company and fortune, and he was struggling to make a name for himself in the industry with this picture. I only had two lines in the whole movie, but somehow I managed to meet him on the set and have a conversation with him…” He swallowed another mouthful of his coffee and paused for a moment before continuing. “And surprise, surprise. He’d happened to see a couple of my ‘first pictures’. You could say we bonded. Well, the both of us were trying to fit in somewhere, and our personalities got along all right. By the time the film wrapped up and went to cinemas, we were pretty much friends. And that’s our story.”
Satoshi raised an eyebrow. “That doesn’t explain why you told me you were afraid of him last night. How you got to work for him, or why you two are-…Well, --”
“Sleeping together?” Ninomiya filled in, ignoring the detective’s mildly flustered reaction. “I don’t really remember if I slept with him before or after he offered me a job as his assistant. I don’t think it matters what happened first. I did both for the same reason: because I knew he liked me.”
Satoshi frowned. “And you didn’t feel the same?”
He shook his head. “I still don’t.” He paused, studying the detective’s surprised expression with an unreadable one of his own. “…You probably think I’m heartless. It’s true, I let him hire me and bed me because I realized how much of a liking he’d taken to me, and I knew that he was going to be a big name. That movie was a hit, and almost every film he’s done since has been as well. You can understand what I was thinking. The closer I was to him, the better chances I thought I would have to break into the acting world. He was a valuable connection, my ticket to stardom, so I could put up with him showing up at my apartment at night and going back to his normal life during the day. I didn’t mind giving him what he wanted, because I figured I’d get what I wanted in the end.”
“So you were only ever using him.”
Ninomiya nodded, slowing to a stop. “But I was blinded… I put up with him because I wanted fame so badly, I didn’t care what I had to do to get it…” He paused. “But he’s never even treated me well. It’s like… I’m his pet. Locked up and fetching this or that for him, running here and there at his beck and call. I’ve never been rewarded for my years of loyalty to him, and it’s been years since he treated me like he cared. I’m just convenient, and with every year my novelty is fading. I don’t want to give up on my dream, but I’m tired, Detective. I don’t want to play this charade any longer.”
“But then why not leave?” Satoshi questioned, frowning at the depiction of the twisted relationship. “You could find work elsewhere. If he doesn’t value your relationship anymore, he should be willing to let you go.”
Ninomiya shook his head fervently. “No, that’s why I’m scared. He doesn’t treat me like something he cares for, because he treats me like something he owns. I’m scared of what he might do if I tried to leave. He’s rough as it is, Detective.” He said and then hesitated before pushing up the sleeve of his coat, revealing a small collection of fading bruises and healing scrapes. “Pets that try to run away get punished if they’re caught.”
--
“Mr. Sakurai.” Jun greeted, and then continued before the suddenly wary producer/director could complain. “You seem like you’re enjoying this scene, aren’t you?”
“… It’s a climactic part of the film.” Sakurai explained tersely. “And it’s turning out well. Can I help you with anything this time?”
“I want to clarify something. You were in your office the night Ryo Nishikido died.”
“Yes,” He answered, sounding exasperated, “I worked late.”
“With Mr. Ninomiya.”
“…Yes.”
“And are you sure that you were working on something ‘decent’? Because, in my experience, you and Ninomiya have been known to get up to inappropriate behavior when left alone in there. Correct?”
Sakurai paled, and his gaze flickered around nervously. “…Detective,” He started, taking a few steps away from the crowd. “I assumed you’d have enough tact not to bring up that incident. You must realize that my career, my life, would be ruined if it got out that I-… that I was-“
“Can I assume, then, that Mr. Nishikido was tactless enough not to keep his mouth shut?”
“E-Excuse me?” The producer spluttered, looking thoroughly thrown off by that comment.
“The story was that he came into your office that night to tell you he was leaving. Did he walk in on something he shouldn’t have? If he had, of course, you would need to shut him up before he ruined you. I understand.”
Sakurai gaped at him, completely aghast. “Are-… Are you trying to suggest that I killed him?”
Jun shrugged. “Did you?”
The producer gaped for a moment longer before letting out a hesitant chuckle, as if he thought Jun might even be joking. “…Why would I do that? That-… That doesn’t even make sense. He was one of my leading actors. I’m not crazy enough to kill one of my own leads.”
“Not even if it would save your career from ruin? Maybe he was trying to blackmail you. Was he asking for a higher salary, Mr. Sakurai? I could reason it. Replacing one actor would be easier than losing your career and having your name besmirched in the industry.”
“But I didn’t kill-…” Sakurai began, starting to sound upset by the allegations. He glanced at their surroundings again and then pulled the detective aside, and under the awning of a dilapidated café. “If you plan to accuse me of murder based on completely out-there speculations and no proof-“
“I don’t really think you killed him.” Jun announced. “I doubt it. But, I’m fairly convinced that you have something to do with this case. I don’t believe he was mugged. I think it was set up to look like a mugging, and I think you have something to do with that. Don’t you?”
Again, Sakurai was struck momentarily speechless. “…Why? Why would I do that?” He demanded to know, but he looked and sounded uncertain this time.
Jun grinned. “Because, you’re trying to protect this film. You probably don’t know who killed him, but you think he was targeted because he was in your production. That’s why you have hired security people to tail your stars. You made his murder look like a mugging to take the negative press away from focusing on the truth, because the truth would make your picture look bad… How am I doing here? Close? Hitting the nail on the head?” He chuckled; Sakurai was ghostly pale and practically buzzing with tension. “What’s the truth, Mr. Sakurai? What facts about his death have you been keeping to yourself?”
Sakurai took a deep breath, and when he let it out his whole body sagged. He leaned back against the brick wall of the little entranceway they were crammed in. His gaze fell, and his shoulders slumped. “… If you’re right about what I’ve done, will I go to jail?” He asked quietly, and Jun thought he sounded like a broken man.
“I’m not a cop, really, so I can’t be bothered with that.” He answered. “I just want to find the murderer.”
Sakurai sighed shakily. “… He wasn’t mugged. I found his body in the studio when I was leaving late that night, and I didn’t want people to start speculating that a member of the cast or crew had done it, so I… I put his body in my car, and dumped him in that alley. I emptied his wallet because I thought it would make it look less suspicious…” He sounded tearful.
“You have no idea who could have done it?” Jun asked.
Sakurai shook his head slowly. “No, Ninomiya and I were in my office for most of the night, so we didn’t see who else was around or had left. Somebody could have come in off the street and killed him, if they wanted to. The light was on in the room where he’d been practicing his script, and I saw him when I went to turn it off. I told Ninomiya to go on ahead, and waited until I was the only one left before I decided to deal with it.” He choked a little, and raised his watery gaze to the detective’s. “I feel horrible about it, you know. I think it’s been driving me crazy. You said you could justify killing an actor to protect my career… but I can’t. This is bad enough.”
Jun nodded, feeling like he should try to comfort the man, but not having the faintest notion of how to go about it. “Thanks for your cooperation this time.” He said instead, giving the producer an awkward pat on the arm. “I probably won’t harass you anymore while you’re filming.” He walked away, and behind him he heard Sakurai give a dry, humorless, laugh.
The crew seemed to be packing up the equipment. The hour was late, and the shoot was over. Everyone looked tired and busy, and none of them spared him more than a second glance as he weaved through the crowd in search of Satoshi and Ninomiya. They were nowhere to be seen, and he wouldn’t be surprised if they’d taken off together. He scowled, worried about the company his partner was starting to keep.
“Detective Matsumoto!” Exclaimed an exuberant voice to his left, disrupting his train of thought. Jun nearly jumped out of his skin when he turned towards the voice and came face to face with a bruised and bloodied mess. A second look determined that the mess was just on the person’s face, and was clearly all cosmetics.
“Masaki.” He greeted simply, still trying to calm his racing heart rate. Two makeup girls caught up to the actor and continued swabbing away the mess on his face. He’d already changed into regular clothes, but from his head alone Jun recognized him from earlier. “So you were the one getting tossed out of the van.”
“Yeah, it was my first time doing my own stunt.” He laughed breathily. “It was the scene where the bad guys release me, after I’ve been kidnapped and beaten.”
“I see that.” Jun nodded towards the red and purpled discoloration on his skin. “You were very realistic. I heard Mr. Sakurai was pleased with your performance.”
“Was he?” Aiba beamed at the praise. “I’m glad!”
Jun nodded awkwardly and glanced back across the crowd. Still no sign of Satoshi, and he was feeling too tired and satisfied with his new information to wait around any longer. “I have to get going, but it was nice to see you again.” Aiba reached out to shake his hand, warmly replying with similar pleasantries, but Aiba’s sleeves were pushed up to his elbows, and Jun was distracted by the multiple long, red, marks on his tanned forearm. “Oh,” His gaze flickered to the makeup girls, “there’s still some makeup here…” He pointed.
The girls both frowned down at the marks. Aiba looked too and then raised his eyes, crinkled with laughter, to Jun’s again. “No, those are just scratches.” He assured him.
“…Scratches?” Jun repeated, brows pulling together.
‘…the kid still fought back. There was dried blood under his nails…’
“Yeah, you know.” Aiba continued obliviously. “Those dogs you met last time, they jump up a lot… Don’t worry though,” Aiba reassured him happily. “Some of the scratches were deep, but they’re almost healed now.”
Jun swallowed slowly, still frowning. The last of the gruesome makeup had been wiped away. Jun looked at Aiba’s soft doe eyes and the wide smile so full of warmth, and all it did was send a cold shiver through his bloodstream.
“Good night, Mr. Aiba.” He muttered, turning on his heel and putting as much distance between himself and the other man as quickly as possible.
--
516 West 47th Street, at the office of Private Detectives Matsumoto and Ohno.
“Good afternoon.” Satoshi greeted, looking up from the paperwork on his desk as Jun entered the office.
Jun frowned, snapping out of his thoughts at Satoshi’s voice. “You disappeared yesterday. …Were you out all night with Ninomiya?”
Ohno shook his head, looking mildly affronted by Jun’s snappish tone. “No, we wandered away from the set and decided to call it a night. We took separate cabs… How did things go with Sakurai?”
Jun sighed heavily. “Well, we have progress. He admitted to setting it up to look like a mugging. Apparently he found the body in the actual studio. So, I think it’s safe to say that we’re dealing with a fan or a co-worker, or else someone else who would have known he was working and that the studio was mostly unoccupied at that time… Other than that, we’re not much closer to finding a suspect.”
“You don’t think Sakurai did it?” Satoshi frowned.
Jun shook his head and then hummed thoughtfully. He lit up a cigarette and leaned against the front of his desk. “Did I mention to you that Nishikido managed to scratch his attacker-?“
“Excuse me, Sir. You can’t-!“ Called their secretary’s voice from the waiting room, just a moment before the office door burst open. Ninomiya was on the other side, looking red-faced and wild, and their secretary stood behind him looking concerned and apologetic. “Uh, you have a visitor, Detectives…” She said uncertainly as Ninomiya began stalking into the room.
“Ninomiya?” Satoshi began, pushing back his chair and getting to his feet. “What happened to you?”
“That-that bastard is-“ He broke off, gasping for air as though he was on the edge of hyperventilating.
“Easy!” Jun exclaimed, taking the cigarette from his mouth. “Calm down before you hurt yourself.”
“How many- how many years, have I stuck with- h-him just to have him-?!”
Satoshi came round the front of his desk and caught Ninomiya by the arm before he could collapse. The assistant’s eyes were bloodshot and red with angry, unshed tears. “Come on, we’ll go get some fresh air.”
Jun followed them down to the sidewalk out front. Ninomiya stayed quiet, just breathing erratically, until Satoshi had sat him down on the curb. “Now then,” Jun began, exhaling a lungful of smoke. “What on earth is going on?”
Ninomiya took a deep shuddering breath, hands clenched into fists in his lap. “Sho is-… he just announced to everyone today that- that he’s ‘done’. He’s calling off the movie, he’s giving up the company. I-… I can’t believe I stuck with him for so many years just to get screwed over like this.” He gasped in another deep breath, and Satoshi made an attempt to rub his back soothingly. “Worse! He has the guts to act like I should feel bad for him. Like he expected me to console him or something. I-… I stormed out. I couldn’t stand being there any longer.”
“… Your relationship problems aside,” Jun spoke up, “How did the other cast and crew react?”
Ninomiya shrugged helplessly. “Shocked, angry. People were stunned at first… and then they started complaining.”
“Masaki Aiba?” Jun continued casually.
Ninomiya frowned thoughtfully. “Masaki… Masaki got really upset. He said that this had finally been his chance to make it somewhere -lucky bastard-, and now everything he’d worked for was going to waste… He went on like that for awhile, and then said something about going to try and convince Sho to change his mind later. Something dramatic like that, he always seemed way more emotional than the average person… Why?”
“And your reaction wasn’t dramatic or emotional?” Ohno teased gently, raising an eyebrow at the assistant.
Ninomiya frowned. “I’m much more attached to this situation than he is though.”
“Was Sakurai at the studio?”
“He was. Don’t know if he’d bother hanging around though…”
“Thanks. I’ll talk to you later, Satoshi.” Jun dropped the cigarette, grinding it out beneath his heel as he strode away.
--
537 West 20th Street, Sakurai’s office at the ‘Landscape I’m Seeing’ Productions Studio.
Outside the office window, the sun was sinking towards the Hudson. Jun had spent the afternoon going from one place to another. Sakurai had not been at his office, nor had his receptionist known where he went. She said Aiba had come by earlier, there had been raised voices, and she thought the young actor had left in frustrated tears. Jun had gone to Aiba’s apartment but found that he wasn’t home, and his landlord told him Aiba had given notice that he would have his things moved out before the end of the month. At a loss, Jun had decided to return to the production studio and dug around the office until he came across a certain security agent’s phone number. Thankfully, the man answered.
“Toma Ikuta? This Private Detective Jun Matsumoto… I need to find Aiba, or Sakurai. As soon as possible.”
Toma explained that Sakurai had called him off the job at the same time that he broke his big news to everyone else. Aiba had, indeed, been distraught.
“When I left him, he said he was going to tie off some loose ends and give up on New York. Probably heading back to his hometown I guess.”
“Tonight?”
“I guess… that’s what it sounded like.”
Jun cursed, thanked the security agent as briefly and courteously as he could, and slammed the phone receiver into the stand. If Aiba was going back to Chicago, he had every intention of catching him before he got on that train.
On the street outside, he ran to the corner of Eleventh Ave. and hailed the first cab that approached. “To Grand Central, please.” He panted, slamming the door shut behind him.
He could only hope Aiba’s loose ends had nothing to do with Sakurai going missing.
--
516 West 47th Street, at the office of Private Detectives Matsumoto and Ohno.
“I’m glad you’re calmed down now.” Satoshi commented from his desk, watching Ninomiya watch the sunset through the window.
Ninomiya turned and smiled at the detective. “Yeah, I think I’m starting to see my life clearly for the first time in a while. I know what options I have.”
“Really? That’s good.”
Ninomiya wandered back over and perched on the edge of the desk. “I don’t have to feel powerless anymore.” His lips curled again, showing a flash of bright white teeth. The dying sunlight lit the room in a fiery orange and gold color. It reflected bright in Ninomiya’s piercing eyes and off his pale skin, making his moles and the dark hair on his head stand out starkly in contrast.
“I can’t understand why you ever let him control you. You don’t come off like the average fairy-type.”
Ninomiya laughed sharply. “Well, I’m not. But kissing men isn’t so bad.”
Satoshi raised his eyebrows. “Seriously?”
Ninomiya nodded. “It’s not really different from kissing a woman. Lips are lips, after all.”
There was a long awkward pause. They both stared at each other, Satoshi attempting to avert his eyes several times but finding his gaze continued to return to that thin, curved, smile.
“… Can I kiss you, Detective Ohno?” He asked quietly, leaning forward until the only thing keeping him from falling forwards onto the detective was the hand on the back of the chair Satoshi was sitting on.
Satoshi didn’t dare answer the question. Ninomiya’s eyes, so close to his own, were closed and Satoshi felt his own fluttering to do the same. And then Ninomiya’s lips pressed against his, tentative for only a moment before pressing back again, slow but firm. He felt Ninomiya exhale against him, and parted his own lips a little, reaching a hand up to finger the color of Ninomiya’s button up. He tasted of cigarettes and sweat, his cheek was the slightest bit rough with stubble, and his kisses were strong and demanding. Kissing Ninomiya wasn’t much like kissing a woman, but it still wasn’t bad.
The detective felt a little dazed by his findings when the other man pulled back and met his gaze. “I want to leave Sakurai, for good.” He murmured, reaching out to swipe a thumb gently across Satoshi’s bottom lip. The corner of Ninomiya’s mouth curled into a small smile before he spoke again. “Will you help me get some of my things from his house?” He asked softly. The sunlight reflected in his irises looked like fire. “I don’t want to go alone.”
Ninomiya’s short fingers slipped into Satoshi’s hair, and there was no way he could even consider refusing.
--
Grand Central Terminal
By the time he got out of the taxi and into the main concourse, the sun had already disappeared. The Twentieth Century Ltd. Train, going from New York to Chicago, was already boarding at platform twelve.
Jun cursed his luck and ran clear across the concourse, not caring if he looked like a madman.
There was a line of people boarding when he burst onto the platform, panting and panicked. He ran his eyes over the figures in the crowd, none catching his attention, until he saw the end of a blood red umbrella poking out of someone’s suitcase. Jun jogged down the platform, reached out and grabbed the man by the shoulder.
Masaki Aiba turned around with a soft gasp of surprise, his wide eyes were a little puffy, and his face looked weary without his usual grin. “Detective Matsumoto…?” He questioned, confused. “How did you know that I was-…?”
Jun shook his head sadly. “I didn’t want to believe it. You seemed like the least likely sort, but it makes sense when I think about it. You had the motive all along, didn’t you?” He nodded to himself grimly, not letting himself be fooled or softened by Masaki’s wide-eyed expression of innocent confusion. “Getting Nishikido out of the picture gave you your opportunity of a lifetime. If he hadn’t died, you wouldn’t have gotten your chance… I’m right, aren’t I? You know I am.”
Aiba looked horrified.
“But now, everything you risked so much for is falling apart. Everything you planned is being unraveled.” Jun met Aiba’s eyes sternly. The actor’s eyes were welling with tears, but Jun had to remember that Aiba was an actor, and also possibly very unstable. “Why are you leaving Aiba?” He wheedled, stepping into the taller man’s personal space. The platform was emptying as more people boarded the train. “What’s the hurry to take off? Is this your routine? You try to create your little dream world, and when it comes crashing down you try again somewhere else?” He narrowed his eyes. “What are you running from?”
Fat tears spilled over Aiba’s cheekbones, and he blinked furiously in an attempt to be rid of them. “I-…” He began, choked up. “I know it’s cowardly, but it’s really hard to come so c-close, and then have it all taken away from you…” He took a deep breath as though it would calm himself. “I thought it might be a good idea to go back to Chicago and try to start over.”
“I’m afraid I can’t let you do that.” Jun announced.
Aiba blinked in confusion for a moment. “…W-why not?”
It was Jun’s turn to blink. He’d thought that they were on the same page for a while now. “I’m looking for Sho Sakurai, what have you done with him?”
Aiba frowned. “I haven’t done anything… I went to his office this afternoon and begged him to reconsider giving up, but he said that he had too many personal issues to deal with.” His frown deepened. “Has something happened to him? A lot of the crew and cast members were mad at him… but I left after I talked to him.”
Jun frowned too. “But-… Then, did you kill Ryo Nishikido?”
Aiba’s frown morphed into an expression of shock and horror. “Of course not! I’ve never even met him!”
“…Come with me. I need to rethink everything.” He grabbed Aiba’s arm and began leading him off of the platform and back across the concourse.
The only evidence he’d had to go by were the scratches on Aiba’s arms and that he had a motive that worked, but the more he thought about it… the motive didn’t work after all. Jun considered this as the two of them piled into a cab with Aiba’s luggage. “516 West 47th, please.” He said before turning to the man beside him. “…Masaki, you said that the script said Tommy looked nothing like you do, didn’t you?”
Aiba nodded slowly, trying to catch on. “He was supposed to be kind of withdrawn, with pale skin, dark hair… not too muscular… Um…” He pouted thoughtfully. “Ghost-like, was how they described him.”
“…I can see Ryo playing a role like that, but why cast you?” Jun wondered aloud after several minutes had passed. “Nobody would expect someone exactly the opposite of the character to step in. And there’s got to be plenty of creepy pale guys around that Sakurai could have picked from, it’s not like they’re hard to come by. Hell, Ninomiya could easily have-“ He stopped short, heart skittering in his chest.
There was a long tense silence between them. To his right, Aiba was staring straight ahead with wide, shocked, eyes.
“…I heard, on set once, that Ninomiya used to be an actor before he started working for Sakurai…” Aiba spoke up, voice tiny and wavering.
Jun’s stomach felt like it had turned to lead, and he had the bills out to pay the cabbie with before the vehicle had even come to a complete stop.
--
27 Sutton place, at Sho Sakurai’s townhouse.
The lights were off in the building. Satoshi frowned up at the darkened windows. “…Maybe he’s not home. We can come back tomorrow, I don’t mind.”
Ninomiya reached into the flowerpot beside the door and, after a moment of digging around, pulled out a dirty silver key. He grinned triumphantly, brushed it off, and stuck it in the lock on the door.
“Ninomiya, wait.” Satoshi whispered. “We shouldn’t break in…”
The door opened with a click, and Ninomiya stepped into the entryway. “Come on.” He hissed. “We’ll be quick.”
Satoshi hesitated a moment longer before giving in and stepping into the house. It took a long minute to adjust to the darkness inside, and then he found Ninomiya had already wandered ahead into the large living area.
“Wow…” Ninomiya mused quietly to himself. “This is nice.”
Satoshi watched him crane his neck to look up the stairs before following him into the kitchen. “Has it changed since you were last here, or something?”
Ninomiya frowned at him for a second before nodding. “Yeah.” He answered and flashed a smile. He put his hands on his hips and surveyed the dark, polished cupboards. “Nice place, isn’t it?”
“Sure.” Satoshi agreed, uncomfortable with the whole situation. “What stuff did you need to get?”
“Oh…” Ninomiya looked around and then suddenly began opening and closing drawers. They banged shut loudly when he shoved them closed, and then he found one full of silverware and jostled that one around. “Maybe something in here…”
“Hey, hey!” Satoshi exclaimed, horrified at the noise. “Stop!” He grabbed the thinner man’s arms and prevented him from continuing, but in the silence afterwards clear footsteps could be heard on the level above them. Satoshi’s heart dropped into his stomach, and when he turned to Ninomiya, he was disturbed to find that the man had a faint smile on his lips. “Come on.” He demanded, pulling Ninomiya with him into the next room and ducking down on the floor to one side of the dining table.
The footsteps descended the stairs and moved warily towards the kitchen before pausing. For a long moment Satoshi could hear nothing but his own pulse and Ninomiya’s breathing hot against his ear. And then the light in the kitchen turned on. Satoshi held his breath and peeked out from under the table; he could see Sakurai standing in the kitchen, frowning at the open drawers. Slowly, the ex-producer reached out and pulled a knife from the knife block on the counter.
Satoshi felt all of his muscles tense with fear. Behind him Ninomiya had fallen still and silent too, or so he thought. Ninomiya suddenly leaned backwards, pushing a dining chair backwards on the floor to create a screeching noise. Satoshi felt nauseous with fright, but Ninomiya just laughed under his breath.
Sakurai’s gaze had fixed in their direction, so Satoshi stood slowly, pulling Ninomiya up behind him. “… Hello, Mr. Sakurai.” He greeted awkwardly.
Sakurai frowned at the detective, but his eyes widened when he saw Ninomiya. “…Kazunari?”
--
516 West 47th Street, at the office of Private Detectives Matsumoto and Ohno.
The secretary told them where Satoshi and Ninomiya had gone. “But why? Why would Satoshi agree? Ninomiya was so mad at Sakurai when I left…”
“He calmed down after you left. But I was told they were going to Mr. Sakurai’s because Ninomiya wanted to get some of his belongings back from him before they separated.”
Jun thought about that for a long moment.
“…But that doesn’t make sense, does it?” Aiba spoke up suddenly with a frown.
“How so?” Jun demanded to know.
“Well, Mr. Sakurai’s married. And he has children, I think.” Aiba pointed out. “…Would Ninomiya leave his belongings there if his and Sakurai’s relationship was secret?”
“It’s a set-up.” Jun growled, striding over to the phone on the secretary’s desk and dialing a number in. “Get me Sakurai’s address, right away.” He said to her before speaking into the phone. “Hi, this is Jun Matsumoto. Thank you…” He sighed, the secretary passed him a slip of paper with the address scrawled on it in pencil. “Oh, hello Sergeant.” He greeted the person on the phone. “Yeah, you said I should tell you if there’s murder involved in my investigations… Well, yes. If you don’t hurry over to 27 Sutton Pl., there might be one!”
--
27 Sutton place, at Sho Sakurai’s townhouse.
“He came to get his things.” Satoshi spoke up, but Sakurai’s frown only deepened.
“And to tell you that I’m not going to see you anymore.” Ninomiya chimed in.
Sakurai looked horrified. “What?... Why?! Because I don’t want to run the company anymore?”
“Yes.” Ninomiya answered seriously. “And because I’ve never loved you.”
Sakurai looked really shocked and heartbroken for someone who wasn’t in love, and Satoshi was actually feeling a little bad for him despite it all. Ninomiya was behaving strangely, and not trying at all to soften the blows.
“But, Kazunari-…” Sakurai started, sounding helpless and confused.
“You’re useless, Sho.” Ninomiya continued harshly. “You can’t do anything right, and I’m sick of putting up with you for no reason. I have Ohno now. I don’t need you anymore.”
“Hey, wait.” Satoshi spoke up, shocked at the sudden turn. “I’m not a part of this.”
But Ninomiya ignored him, pressed his lips to the side of Satoshi’s neck and let them linger there.
“You’re kidding me. For no reason? For no reason?!” Sakurai exclaimed, face turning red with anger. He stepped forward, kitchen knife still in hand. “For years now I’ve been nothing but good to you, and you know it!”
“So what if you have?! I’m still leaving.” Ninomiya announced before leaning in and whispering into Satoshi’s ear: “He has a knife! Get your gun out.”
Satoshi reached for his holster as a warning. “Calm down, Mr. Sakurai. We can just relax-“
“I don’t want to hear anything from you! Stay out of this!” Sakurai spat angrily, prompting him to actually draw the gun.
“Shoot him.” Ninomiya hissed in Satoshi’s ear. “He’s dangerous. Just shoot him.”
“Yeah, Detective. Do it! Why not!” Sakurai joined in, sounding mildly hysterical about the whole situation. “I don’t even care anymore! Just shoot me!” He roared, stepping forward and brandishing the knife. “Shoot me!”
Satoshi pulled the trigger. There was a crack and he felt it. Sakurai went down on the kitchen tiles with a howl of pain. Upstairs somewhere, a kid screeched in fright, and Ninomiya watched the blood pooling on the ground with awe until he realized that Sakurai had only been shot in the knee area.
“What? Why?!” He demanded. “You didn’t kill him!”
“The goal of coming here wasn’t to kill him!” Satoshi exclaimed shakily.
Ninomiya reached for the dropped knife, and Satoshi had to tackle him onto the ground to keep him from finishing the job. The knife slipped across the back of his hand at one point and left him hissing in pain, but after a bit more struggling he was able to pry the weapon free of Ninomiya’s fingers. In the distance, he could hear sirens approaching. Ninomiya’s sleeves got pushed up in the struggle, revealing the healing scratched and bruises. “But look! Look at what he did!” Ninomiya tried yelling and wriggling loose when he caught Satoshi staring at the marks.
Satoshi tossed the knife aside, and had to pin Ninomiya down on the floor before he could lunge after it again. “Leave it!” He exclaimed, horrified by the change that had come over the man. “Just leave it alone!”
The police arrived soon enough, along with paramedics. Ninomiya was restrained and Sakurai was strapped onto a stretcher and carried to a waiting ambulance.
“…You’ve never hurt him, have you?” Satoshi asked, walking with the medics as his hand was bandaged and Sakurai was lifted into the back of the vehicle.
Sakurai shook his head. “Never.” He breathed, struggling to stay conscious.
Satoshi believed him.
--
516 West 47th Street, at the office of Private Detectives Matsumoto and Ohno.
“I’m sorry about the misunderstanding before. Thank you for helping me figure it out in the end.”
Aiba wide smile and bright eyes accepted the train ticket and slipped it into the pocket of a green tweed overcoat. “Thank you. I’m glad I met you, Detective.”
Jun stood in the window of his office staring out at the dark, rain-washed, street where earlier a red umbrella had bobbed out of sight. The rain hit the windowpane and dribbled down in thick rivulets, distorting his view of the city beyond.
“Sakurai is recovering well. He’ll probably have a limp from now on, but he’ll survive. His family is coping with the stress of overhearing everything as well, and Satoshi is a little shaken but otherwise fine. His therapist thinks he’ll be ready to come back to work in a week or two, if he wants to.”
“That’s good.” Jun nodded pensively. “…And Ninomiya?”
“Trial’s end of next week.” The sergeant answered. “He confessed to Ryo Nishikido’s murder… Doctors don’t think he’s crazy though. He was really stressed out when we took him in, but not crazy. He hadn’t planned to kill Nishikido, but he was jealous and when Nishikido teased him about job, he snapped. He said the guilt of what he’d done and knowing that Sakurai was also being eaten with guilt over it messed him up a little bit over time.”
Jun sighed and turned away from the window, digging around in his pocket for a cigarette and lighter. “Well, at least the craziness of this one is getting us a lot of media attention.”
Oguri rolled his eyes. “I was going to suggest you try taking it easy for awhile, but you seem just as hard-hearted as you usually do.”
Jun stuck a cigarette between his teeth and grinned around it while he lit up. “What makes you so sure I have a heart, Shun?”
The sergeant chuckled and his smile softened. “Nobody paid you for that crazy case, Jun. But you did it anyway.”
Jun shrugged. “Sometimes it’s worth it to get paid in fame instead of cash. You hear they might make a picture about us?”
“Your character would never make it through the censorship.” Oguri retorted and then laughed. “Now, stop trying to be a tough guy for a minute and let me thank you.”
“A thank you?” Jun raised his eyebrows. “That’s a first. Satoshi will be sorry he missed this.”
“I’m sure he will.” Oguri straightened up and walked towards the door. “As always, try to stay out of trouble please?”
“Can’t make any promises, Sergeant.” Jun grinned crookedly. “Trouble tends to find me.”
No sooner had the sergeant left and Jun sat behind his desk when the secretary appeared at the door. “Mr. Matsumoto, there’s a lady here who wants you to find her brother. He’s eloped with a servant girl from their household.”
“Servant girls you say?” Jun raised an eyebrow. “Deep pockets?”
“Looks it, Sir.” The Secretary affirmed. “Think she’s wearing real fur. It’s quite over the top.”
“An eloping brother, huh.” Jun considered this and let his grin spread across his face once more. “Sounds like trouble… Send her in.”