An interlude: the search warrant was being processed and the raid strategy was being coordinated- the suspect rated dangerous. With some time to himself, James went home and crashed on his couch. Waking up several hours later, he showered, ate a brunch, and headed right back out. On the way to the station he detoured to the morgue- Leon should have something. He badged the receptionist. "Homicide. Is Deputy Nobles available?"
The woman only looked up for a total of about one second before returning to whatever task she was performing on the computer. "He's in Autopsy 2."
He found the coroner in the specified room, a pair of familiar bodies laid out and chopped up a bit. He did not look particularly busy at the moment. "Leon, you finished looking over the bodies?"
"Well, somebody's in a hurry. It's too early for any test results but I got a few things to show you. Take a look at THIS." Leon reached underneath Nakamura and propped him up on his side, revealing his back. A massive elaborate tattoo covered almost all of the skin area. The focal point of the design was a giant red dragon. It was once an impressive work of art, although now it was somewhat marred by the presence of numerous bullet holes in it. "Pretty serious ink work, eh?"
"Yeah, and he's a pretty serious customer too. Elaborate tattoos like this are very common among those in yakuza crime families."
The deputy coroner did a double-take. "Yakuza? You telling me that this guy is a yakuza?"
"Was a yakuza."
"Cool. I've seen some gangbangers and even a mobster or two, but I ain't never seen a yakuza before. Well then, that might provide some context as to how these two were killed. It's obviously not your average homicide, not the least of which because it's a double killing, but anyway... As I previously determined, this man was killed by numerous gunshot wounds. All told, he was shot 41 times; mostly in the torso, two in the head. All of the chest shots were done from a distance. The headshots were done up close and personal." The coroner pointed a finger gun downward at the corpse's head for illustration. "Finishers. Aside from that, he had only superficial burns on him. Looks like he managed to escape the blaze, but his friend wasn't so lucky."
James felt a tingle. He managed to escape the fire? "What about the other one?"
"The other guy," Leon said pointing to Okawa, "is a completely different story. He wasn't shot. I think this man died from his burns."
"You sure?"
"I've poked around inside him and found absolutely NOTHING; no bullets or any kind of significant internal damage. There were only some relatively minor injuries, likely resulting from the crash. Maybe something will come up in the toxicology test; otherwise I see no other cause of death."
"Jesus." The Molotov cocktail- it wasn't meant to torch evidence after the fact, but the victims outright. One burns, one escapes- the killers fall back on option B: guns. Fire was a drawn-out, agonizing method of murder. It took a special kind of person to be capable of such an act.
While James mulled over all of this, Leon got tired of waiting. "A penny for your thoughts?"
"The killers torched the car with a Molotov cocktail. The victims were both intended to be burned alive. This one managed to escape, this one didn't," James said, pointing at the appropriate bodies. "So the killers shot him instead."
"Yes, that would certainly fit my findings. What a nasty bit of work. Is this method of killing also something the yakuza specialize in?"
"I wouldn't put it past them."
Sergeant Hardy and his partner got the call: SWAT team, assemble. It was a welcome deviation from their current patrol duties. They returned to the station, got suited up, and hit the muster room. Most of the unit was already in the room. Naturally, SWAT commander Lieutenant Hunter was present as was Sergeant Gwydion, second-in-command. The other members were Officers Andrews and Spartan, as well as Detectives Yoshida, Burns, Donovan, Rainsford, and Brandstatter, making 11 out of the 15 SWAT members in the unit present. Plus one: also sitting in at the back of the room was none other than Pretty Boy Detective Cools.
Hunter stood at the podium, waiting as the team showed up. "Well, glad you guys could join us. Either of you two happen to see Cavanaugh on the way in?"
Michael replied, "Yep. We told him that it was an emergency, so he's only gonna take a one-hour shower." Cavanaugh had a bit of a cleanliness obsessive-compulsive-disorder. There was no such thing as a 'quick rinse' with him; it was no surprise he'd be the last one to show up. Eventually Officer Cavanaugh made his appearance. 12 out of 15 present now- that was all SWAT members currently on active duty.
Hunter clearly thought about making commentary on the tardy arrival however he apparently decided to let it slide. "All right, now that everybody's finally here let's get down to business. We've got ourselves a high-risk warrant to serve." The room went dim and the giant wall monitor lit up, displaying a mug shot of a decidedly mean-looking man of Asian descent along with his name and statistics. "The suspect is one Yagi Takeshi. He's wanted as a suspect in a double homicide, and a rather violent one at that. He has no convictions on record, but he's a known associate of the Toshihiro crime family. Now I'm sure that everyone here is all well aware of how volatile those guys are." He paused for a moment to let it sink in. "Takeshi lives by himself, but the evidence says he had three accomplices in the crime, so there is the possibility that we may encounter the others too. So in other words, be ready for anything on this one, team. That's why we're handling this." He allowed for another pause before asking, "Any questions?"
No hands went up. "Okay. It's standard procedure; two teams. Anderson, Hardy, Andrews, Spartan, and Burns... You're with me on Red Team. Everyone else is Blue Team. In case you haven't noticed, the new blood in the department is with us on this one. He's the one working the investigation. If you haven't yet been acquainted, meet Detective James Cools."
Everyone already knew. He wasn't THAT new- his arrival was months ago. A few guys gave him a quick glance over the shoulder and/or a half-hearted wave. Hardy didn't even bother. "Don't mind them, it's nothing personal," Hunter explained. "This is a pretty serious unit-" That generated a couple snickers. "-so we don't really do greetings. Now then, enough of the horseshit; let's move!"
They rolled out: SWAT in their van; Pretty Boy solo in his own car. The SWAT team locked and loaded en route. An undercover unit was waiting for them at the place, staking it out in the meantime. No activity had been reported at the house for quite some time. Their suspect might be home, maybe not. Nearing the destination, Hunter gave short and succinct instructions: "Red Team's got the front, Blue's on rear. We're not knocking." Gwydion took time out from checking over his weapon to give a thumbs-up as an affirmation.
Takeshi lived in a home in the residential sector on the outskirts of the city. The street was quiet; nobody was out frolicking on their front lawn. All the better for them. They parked a few houses short of the target. They poured out the rear doors and hit the pavement running. Red Team dashed straight across front lawns and driveways. Blue Team ran between houses and cut through backyards to get to the backdoor. The plainclothes and some additional uniforms would keep a perimeter if by some chance the suspect managed to slip out of the house.
"Alright, kid... Stay back and don't get your head blown off," Michael said for the benefit of Pretty Boy as they ran past his car.
Red Team crossed the front yard of the Takeshi residence. The windows were covered by blinds- no way to see inside. There was no audible noise coming from inside. Red Team climbed onto the porch and stacked up on the sides of the door. Hunter and Anderson were at the front of the lines; Andrews and Hardy were next, while Spartan and Burns brought up the rear. Anderson was carrying an M4 shotgun; everyone else packed MP7 submachine guns. Andrews lugged a battering ram on his back.
They ticked off several seconds to allow Gwydion's team to get around to the backdoor. Michael strained his ears but still heard nothing inside. More seconds passed- nothing seemed to be going on inside. Blue Team signaled they were in position, and their leader gave the word: "Go!" Andrews unslung the battering ram and held one end; Michael took the other. They did two dry swings for momentum, then reared the ram as far back as possible and swung it forward for all they were worth, aiming for the lock. It was perfect- one swing shattered it. Hunter and Anderson went inside, each swinging around a side of the doorway. Andrews and Hardy dropped the ram and followed suit. Hunter announced, "POLICE!"
The team emerged into a front room with the usual amenities: TV, couch, coffee table, bookshelves. No occupants though. 2 doorways led out- Miles, Andrews, and Spartan took one while Anderson, Hardy, and Burns went through the other. A table and chairs suggested the next room was the dining room. Nobody here either. The kitchen was adjacent, the rooms separated only by a counter. Three occupants within: all members of Blue Team coming in through the other entrance. The kitchen was a bit of a mess and featured a dark puddle on the linoleum floor. It looked like it could have been blood but the room smelled sweet. They all stepped around the puddle but crushed some unseen glass underfoot.
It was just a one-floor house; the unit had it searched in about five seconds flat. Both element leaders said "Clear," a second apart. That just left one door in the home, which by its location could have only lead to the connected garage. They stacked up by the remaining door. The SWAT commander tried it. Unlocked- he pushed it open to reveal a darkened room. The team waited a moment. Nothing happened. Hunter signaled Anderson, who hit the doorway and flashed on his tac-light. He swiped his hand along the wall next to the door and hit the light switch. The team went all in.
The garage was single-car-sized. Apart from a few shelves stocked with car-related paraphernalia, the place was empty. Hunter gave the final word: "All clear!" Walking around, Michael hit an oversized button above the light switch. The big garage door rolled up to reveal Detective Cools standing in front of the house. He could only give him a shrug. The Lieutenant had a bit more to offer. "We've got no suspect, and no suspect vehicle here. It looks like our bird has flown the coop. We'll put out an APB on him. It's your show now here Detective." To the rest of them he said, "Take five, team."
James took the disappointment well. Without a word he went into the house. Michael and several of the other SWAT members followed. Donovan and Rainsford were kneeling and standing, respectively, over the mess on the kitchen floor. "What is that?"
"Don't get all excited now," Donovan said, "it's just some spilled cherry preserves." He pointed out the remains of a broken bottle scattered around the substance on the floor, label included. Also strewn about the counter were what appeared to be the shelves to the refrigerator. The spill was located almost directly in front of the refrigerator. Somebody had apparently cleaned it out in a hurry. But why?
James clearly was thinking along the same lines, as he looked over at the refrigerator. Everyone else followed his gaze. A basic kitchen fixture had somehow become infinitely fascinating. Being the one closest to the appliance, Michael stepped forward and grabbed the handle. A distinct movement from behind got his attention. He looked back to see Andrews with his weapon at the ready. "Seriously?"
Andrews flushed but stood firm. "Whatever, man. Just fucking open it."
He did. Perhaps Andrews wasn't being so paranoid; there WAS somebody hiding inside. "Oh shit." He caught at least two echoes from behind. The refrigerator man didn't look very comfortable, in a sitting position with his legs jammed up and arms folded, despite his relatively small size and the fact that the fridge had been emptied out for more room. He didn't look particularly healthy either. A quick feel for vital signs confirmed it. "He's cold." Realizing James was looming over his shoulder, he stepped aside. "Sorry, I suppose it's your investigation."
James reached in and turned the man's head to face their direction. It made an audible cracking with rigor mortis. The cause of death became immediately apparent: one bullet to the forehead. "That's our man," he announced. "So he didn't ditch us after all." Noticing something else, he lifted up one of the dead man's arms and pulled it out for better viewing. The hand had a distinct lack of fingers. He dropped the arm, reached for the other hand. It was also devoid of even a single digit.
Burns went, "Ew."
"Uh, he's supposed to have some, right?" Michael asked. "I don't recall 'fingerless' being in the suspect description."
"Yeah, he's supposed to have fingers," James dryly confirmed. "They've all been hacked off."
"Well da-yum. Who'd do something like that?" Anderson asked.
"Yubitsume," James answered.
"Who?" Michael and Anderson asked at once.
"Yubitsume... Not who, what. It's the name of a yakuza ritual. In the event a member fails his family or otherwise commits a serious offense-"
Michael knew what the act was from some movie he watched. Apparently it wasn't just some legend. "He cuts off a finger as an offering of appeasement," he finished.
"Right. Or maybe more, depending on the seriousness of the offense."
"You mean like killing members of another crime family unprovoked?"
"Yeah, that would probably qualify. Apparently he didn't have enough fingers for repayment."
"Okay, I just want to be sure here..." Cavanaugh started. "You are NOT seriously suggesting that this guy willingly chopped off all his own fingers, right?"
There was a rather awkward pause. Andrews was the first to answer, probably eager to make up for earlier. "Of course he didn't cut off ALL of his own fingers, dumbass." He allowed for a beat before adding, "He'd need somebody else's help to cut off the last one."
Rainsford jumped in. "Well actually… It might be possible if he was holding the knife in his mouth and..." He illustrated this scenario by placing a hand on the counter and acting out his idea of how the sawing was done, complete with (questionably accurate) vocalization: "HYURGH-HYURGH-HYURGH!"
Andrews kept it rolling. "Yeah, that might work. Or maybe he used one of those fancy paper cutters..." He put one hand flat on the counter and mimed the act of raising and dropping the blade with the other. "KA-CHOOF!"
Michael couldn't resist. "Or perhaps he used a table saw..." He put his hands on the counter and pushed them like a piece of wood towards an imaginary blade. "BZZZZZZ-NEEEEEEYOOOOOOOW!"
Most of the SWAT members present started cracking up at some point. Even the professional Gwydion succumbed, although he seemed to be trying pretty hard not to. "Jesus, what is wrong with you guys?" Burns asked, clearly more disgusted than amused by the joke content. Pretty Boy on the other hand just looked almost confused, as if he had been presented with a ridiculously hard question. "Isn't there something else for you guys to be doing right now?"
"Isn't the coroner supposed to examine the body before you start messing with it?" Hardy asked back. Several people went, "Oooooohhhhhh..." James did not look amused.
Hunter's voice announced his reappearance and defused the faceoff. "Okay people, let's leave our fellow brother alone so he can work. We are out of- is that a hand sticking out of the fridge?"
Peace at least- James had the scene to himself now. He continued his search. The freezer yielded no additional surprises. It held only decidedly more expected contents: ice cream, steak, and frozen vegetables. He had a corpse on his hands, but as for a crime scene?
SWAT had seen nothing that suggested a murder when they cleared the place. After walking throughout the house himself, neither did he. So he went back over the place again with a UV flashlight. Still nothing. For a killing involving mutilation, the place was surprisingly clean. He couldn't even find anything resembling a blood trail by the refrigerator. The body being wrapped in plastic would account for a cleaner killing, but not THAT clean. Aside from a lack of blood there were no signs of a disturbance. Unless the killer was an expert at cleaning up, it would seem that the crime didn't happen here.
He was still conducting his fruitless search when the coroner showed up. Leon was catching again. He knew because Nobles announced his arrival. "County Corpse Cleanup! Somebody order a pickup?"
He met the coroner. "This way."
"Well, we meet again, Detective. I presume this is related to your case? You got another dead yakuza for me?"
"Yeah. He's our suspect for killing the other two guys at the morgue. Now somebody's punched his ticket as well."
"Ooh, sounds like a retaliation killing."
"That's what it looks like."
He led Leon into the kitchen as they talked. They stood for a few moments before the coroner asked, "So, where's the body?"
"In the fridge."
"Really?" Leon opened the door and took a look. "Goddamn..." Obviously he had noticed the amputated fingers. "I assume you already looked at the body?"
"Yeah. Anything you can tell me right now?"
"What, you mean like besides the obvious? No. Somebody either made either my job easier or harder. The body has been preserved rather nicely in this thing. If it's all the same to you, I'd like to just take this guy right in."
"Go right ahead."
With the body being taken care of and a general sweep of the house done, it was time to go in-depth. He started in the bedroom- the logical place to find things. He rifled through the dresser drawers and closet. He tossed laundry and dug in pockets. The search turned up a stack of money: a cold two thousand. He had no idea if it was meant for anything in particular or if was just some money on hand for sudden unexpected expenses. Lifting the mattress revealed a Browning 9mm- the same caliber that was used in the murder.
A cursory search of the rest of the house turned up nothing of note. He turned to thinking. As to the identity of the killer, theories ran easy. It was street justice. A Toshihiro goon suspected of murdering two rival Nakayama family thugs winds up dead. Simple gangland procedure: you kill one of ours, we kill you. It seemed that the Nakayama clan had simply got to the suspect before they did. It was a bit disconcerting that a crime family was apparently able to solve a case before they did.
Another question: the suspect is here, but where's his car? It was the reason they were led here in the first place. It was out there somewhere else, sitting left behind in some lonely place, or the killer took it as a souvenir. It was a nice car, true, but keeping such a distinct ride would be an unwise move. Perhaps the APB could still serve a purpose.
After writing up all the necessary investigative reports back at the station, James paid his second visit of the day to the morgue- that was a new record for him. Nobles was just washing his hands. "Detective. You're a bit early; I've only done the preliminaries."
"I guess that will do. What have you got?"
"Well, I guess we'll start with the curious case of the missing fingers."
"It's yubitsume."
"Say what now?"
James sighed. "In short, the missing fingers are a legendary form of punishment in yakuza circles."
"Ah. Yes, I think I've heard about that somewhere. So, is it like a method of torture or something?"
"Not exactly. As far as I know the mutilation is generally supposed to be self-inflicted and voluntary. It's a form of redeeming one's own honor."
"Well, these amputations were definitely NOT self-inflicted."
"Yeah, I kind of figured that," James said with perhaps a touch too much sarcasm. "But how can you tell?"
"As I was going to say before you interrupted me, our man simply couldn't have possibly done the deed himself. The fingers were cut off post-mortem."
That was a strange piece of information. The killing reeked of retribution. And while it still certainly was, it was also merciful. Their own men were subjected to a violent death by burning, so one would have expected reciprocity. Removing all of someone's fingers one by one would have made for one hell of a payback, if you were sadistically-minded. The victim being already dead removed a good deal of the purpose. "I wouldn't have expected that. At least they spared him a whole lot of agony. I guess even evil has some standards."
"I don't know about that... I have a feeling that mercy wasn't the reason for that."
"Then what was?"
"Dead bodies don't bleed. Less mess that way. There was no blood at the house, was there?"
"No, there wasn't. Nor any signs of a struggle."
"No sign of any struggle on this guy either. It looks like they got the jump on him. They shot him, then cut off the fingers. FFFT!" Nobles traced a line across the fingers on one hand to illustrate- déjà vu. "Just like that. But I don't think that's where the deed took place either. This body was moved after death some time later."
All those forensics classes told him what Leon was talking about. "Lividity?"
"Right you are. Secondary lividity indicates the body was lying on its side for some time before being moved."
Assuming the coroner was right, that would probably be from during transportation. Prior to being stuffed in the fridge, the victim was stuffed in a car's trunk. It made sense. Not perfect sense, but sense nonetheless. Why kill a person and bring him back home? So he'd be found, and serve as a message?
"Now, since the body was stashed in a refrigerator, it was preserved from any decomposition so far. That might be a good thing in some cases, but here it means that I can't give you an accurate time of death or how long it's been sitting there."
"Anything at all?"
"It's still fresh; a household refrigerator isn't on par with our freezers. It could have only happened in the last few days at most."
James' brain was crunching the data. The timeline was unclear and left some room to wiggle. For some reason it seemed like it could be the key to this somehow. Could they have it figured backwards? Could Yagi have in fact been killed first, and the highway pair was the retaliation strike? Maybe... No, wait; there was both his car and gun. The gun couldn't be linked until the lab techs tested it but the victim's car was what led them here in the first place. It was no use thinking without seeing the final results.
"Penny for your thoughts?"
"It's gonna cost a little more this time. I'm still working on them. I'll see you later, Leon."
The next day brought some answers in the latest batch of evidence reports. Apart from the refrigerator, no blood was found anywhere else in the house- no surprise there. Ballistics testing matched bullets fired at the highway murder scene to the gun recovered in Takeshi's bedroom. His own checking confirmed Takeshi was the owner of the firearm. A canvassing of the neighbors by the uniforms yielded little. Nobody heard any kind of disturbance. The last observed activity was the night of the highway homicides: a group of people was seen at the house, but no details. Yagi's killers perhaps, or his partners?
No... They were Yagi's partners; his gun was used in the other murders. That set the timeline on events; Yagi was one of the highway killers. It seemed like the Nakayama clan at least killed the right guy. But was the status quo restored? Justice was served but the score wasn't even at 2 dead Nakayama soldiers and 1 dead Toshihiro. Did the Nakayama know that there were 3 other killers? And regardless, could all be forgiven?
I guess we'll find out soon enough...
DVD Commentary: In full disclosure, any forensic evidence discussion details in this story may be totally incorrect. Also: a Police Quest reference (probably the only non-SEGA game one; I made an exception for obvious reasons.)
