Oh my, I did not expect to get so much response so quickly. Okay, one more, but then I'll really need a week or so to get my creative juices gathered.
I've gotten the feedback already that my grammar is off now and again. I'm not actually a native, so if you find something iffy, please let me know, I'll address what I can.
Also, thanks for the general encouragement of persons whose names I do not know here on FFN.
Finally: Sorry for tinkering with my uploads. When re-reading my story later in the day, I keep finding that one phrase I want changed, or that one mistake I'll be able to quickly fix... I'm simply bad at putting the pencil down.
May 14th, 2011
Sitting cross-legged on the floor in her apartment's living room, surrounded by a pile of papers, notes, and photographs, Naoto allowed herself a pleased nod. Finally, the matter started to take on shape. The confusion she had felt about the case this far was lifting.
After reading the police reports on Tatsumi, she had identified the heart of Inaba was still the shopping district, regardless of the many times she had been told it was dead, wasted space and useless since Junes now held everything. Why she still wasted time listening to such rumors … well, in this case the why was apparent. She had nothing else to go on at first. An entire week, wasted by mediocre record-keeping and poor investigative skills.
This was the countryside. People took pride in certain traditional concepts and the Junes chain simply did not cater to many of these needs – perceived or other as they may be. By this very nature she had quickly uncovered a tight net of friendly personal and commercial relations between the inn and a number of the local stores.
Naoto chewed absent-minded on the last (and now-cold) bite of takoyaki she had picked up from the Junes food court on her way home. She had never taken much note of the complex workings of any small town's economics, but having puzzled together the network with the help of some guides from books and online sources, she found them to be nearly as fascinating as the case itself.
Before her on the floor was an enlarged map of what was still known to the locals as the 'main shopping district'. Detailed records on each store and their inventory had been added to her notebook and she had carefully written copies of the bigger points on small post-it notes which she placed near the relevant stores. Having long since memorized each of the highlight-marker drawn arrows, she used the late evening to glance over the map and notes once more before returning to another full-day observation tomorrow.
The plan for the next day was to note down the regular shoppers of the stores, overall patronage, and finalize her observations before she would move on to the next step of interviews she intended to conduct.
She needed to consult Kanji Tatsumi. According to his files, he could be a valuable lead to a number of different sources of information – or provide said information himself. He was known to the police as being involved in the local gangs; he was seen talking to several members of the Konishi family and he might be her proverbial foot in the door to a new direction in her inquiries.
Hopefully one of these leads could loop her right back to the Amagi Inn. It was imperative to investigate the scene but so far she had not been granted any access. As such, finding another way to gain entry would need to be found – and Naoto felt that the shopping district was her entry point.
The inn had regular business with the local liquor store, the textiles and tailoring business, the sundries and tofu shop. It was not quite to the extent that the inn kept these businesses afloat, but having a steady income from one of the traditional torch-bearers of the community certainly helped. Buying from a reputable store, which did frequent business with a well-respected traditional inn. There were always people who took part of their self-worth from the goods they buy, where they purchase these goods, and the knowledge that others would see them do so. Buying something, even if it is more expensive, could lift their own felt status or morale.
Other stores that could not cater to these tastes – or the sheer feeling of exclusiveness - had gone under. A DVD and computer games rental. A pharmacy. A fruit and vegetable vendor. A hobby store. A florist. Had these stores been able to find out how to stimulate that 'exclusive' feeling that their patrons looked for they could have managed to find a way to stay in business.
That, or simply offer things Junes did not carry.
At the super-store there was no section for traditional medicine. Their selection on books and manga was almost microscopic. And while they had their own liquor section, she had since learned that some local sake breweries refused to deal with Junes.
It would be easy to approach a number of these stores herself. Marukyu had been providing more than one to-go meal in the last week, so asking casual questions would be very straightforward. She would simply be considered a regular customer by now, and local shop keepers often were flush with rumor.
Entering the liquor store as a minor was out of the question, of course, but she needed a more delicate way to initiate any contact with the Konishi family anyhow.
The textiles store could prove a little trickier. She could find some flaw with her garments or create one if she needed a reason to engage their services. However, she needed to avoid being sized by anyone at the store, and seeing the general setup of the store being very classical, chances were that that could not be avoided without seeming suspicious.
She shook her head, licked the skewer and picked up a few bonito flakes from the tray with it.
No, overall any approach of the Tatsumis should be handled very carefully. The risk of being noticed was simply too great. Her experience had made it very clear that her daily masquerade was necessary to ensure her to be able to continue in line of the Shirogane vocation. Thankfully the weather absolutely allowed for her large coat. Unwanted attention to her figure, or questions related to the very male name Naoto and her use of the masculine speech patterns, deeper voice and similar uncomfortable situations would be easily avoided.
Yet, without an examination of the accounts of the Tatsumi family a new break-through seemed unlikely. Naoto pulled the stack of copies labeled "Tatsumi, K." on her lap and flipped through the pages slowly, nibbling absent-minded on the slim piece of bamboo.
The younger Tatsumi had a poor attendance record at school. He had been escorted to class by officers more than once in the last school year. It begged the question if this meant he helped out at the family store, or if he simply was the delinquent that his police file indicated him to be. If he was, perhaps careful planning for her observations of the Tatsumi household as well as possibly questioning Kanji Tatsumi would need to be taken.
Also, a slight jog to direct the young man back to school should be helpful. She needed him in many ways and if he was not joining school, his chances of gathering rumor through that avenue was cut short. Teenagers often brimmed with rumor. Stories about neighbors, friends, perceived foes… and she had no means to tap any it yet.
Naoto suddenly realized that she had been sitting still, staring at the notes surrounding the Tatsumi textile shop, and drumming the takoyaki-skewer on the notes in her lap.
She had simply been up too long. Focus was fleeting and she needed to rest.
Getting up, Naoto left her notes scattered on the floor of her living room, dropped her finished Styrofoam tray and skewers in the trash and got ready for bed.
May 15th, 2011
Sipping from her second can of Mad Bull, Naoto leaned against the corner of the closed pharmacy. From this T-intersection she could easily see the main shopping street of Inaba – or what used to have been the main shopping street before the Junes chain had opened a location in town a year ago. The pressure this new multi-story shopping center had put on the locally owned stores was obvious even to the untrained eye. Most stores never opened their shutters any longer and signs announcing the permanent closure hung on store fronts all throughout the shopping district. Just down the street was a lot where construction had started some months prior, but now the site was derelict. Maybe her thoughts on the economic factors were to be taken into more serious consideration. If nothing else, these two murders had brought Inaba into the national news, if only for a few days.
Turning her head to the left, she could see the southern side of the small district. Many considered that the 'entrance' to the shopping district. Of course, most residents possibly only stopped on that end first, as the gas station was at the far south side. The district also had a less crass appearance in that direction, possibly because fewer stores had yet been shut down on that side of the district.
Still, a couple of closed-down stores. On the other hand we had the sundries of Shiroku, which doubled as a convenience store that also sold traditional medicine, seemed to do surprisingly well. Marukyu, a long-established tofu shop, which had decent tofu and very nice pre-made convenience foods based on the same. The impressive metalwork storefront of the artist simply known as 'Daidara' to the residents of Inaba. At the far south end, there was the local book store (which had an excellent Manga selection) and finally the Moel gas station. The bus stop right around the corner from it was one of the main focal points of Inaba. Students as well as the local workforce flocked down this street every morning and returned each afternoon.
Looking straight ahead she noticed two shoppers standing in front of the local bulletin board, right next to the Chinese diner Aiya and the strangely named Souzai Daigaku. "University of Side-dishes", she muttered and shook her head.
Up the street to the right, north if she were looking at the map, were the closed shutters of the Marutake Hobby shop. Opposite that, the overgrown gardens of the Tatsuhime Shrine. She read the other day that the hoodlums had been found a year after the initial incident, back then a group of middle-schoolers. As part of the sentence the magistrate gave was an order to take care of the trees planted on the grounds.
She had visited the shrine after reading that. If the work of the young vandals had helped or not was not to be seen. Weeds still sprouted up the stairs to the shrine grounds and amongst the stone paths.
Naoto stopped mid-sip as her eyes wandered further up the street. Someone just left the textiles shop. By the bright colours of the clothing the patron was wearing, it was a member of the inn, dressed in a kimono. She shifted her gaze away by tilting her head back and drinking from her can.
As the woman walked further up the street, Naoto pushed back her left sleeve to check the time, using the can in her other hand. Quarter to eleven. Pushing a few buttons on her watch, she upped the customer counter by one. The streets were busier than yesterday.
No sight of Kanji Tatsumi so far. An older woman had seen out a few customers earlier. By her looks, she was a relative of the youth, and by the helpful description of Marukyu-san she was actually his mother.
"Out for a breather, son?"
Thanking years of self-control, Naoto managed not to jump. While she had been keeping an eye on the main street, she had omitted to pay attention to the street behind her. This intersection was branching from the shopping district into the residential area.
"Shirogane." She replied placidly, her voice practiced and low. As manly as a teenager would get it, anyhow. "And I was actually out gathering information on the shopping district, Dojima-san" she replied, smoothly pushing herself off the wall, straightening up, and turning around. "Ah, Adachi-san." She offered a tip of her cap to both of them.
The older man tried to light up a cigarette, staring into his cupped hands. He didn't actually look at her. The younger detective at his side had one hand stuffed in his pocket, the other scratching his neck before returning her greeting with a nod. "You don't say, heh. … So, uh, what do you hope to find here then?"
"At this time, I am not fully convinced that we may be looking from the wrong angle at this case. There is still the possibility that the first murder and second murder are simply connected by a not-yet considered element."
Dojima frowned at his lighter as it produced only sparks and gave it a few vicious shakes. "You mentioned." He muttered, balancing his cigarette between his lips. "Your idea that there isn't actually a serial killer, but someone who reacted on some kind of impulse instead."
Adachi looked back and forth between his colleague and Naoto. "Really? So not someone with an agenda at all?"
"That is your interpretation, Adachi-san. My take is that there is a motive, but we are not looking in the correct locale to find it. A problem I seek to rectify by observing the socio-economical interconnectedness here in Inaba."
Sucking hard on his cigarette to get the embers settled, Dojima-san shrugged. "Well, we'll leave you to that then, Shirogane. We're off to the inn right now, I wanted to follow up on something there. I'll let you know if I shine some new light on anything, sounds good?"
"I value your cooperativeness, Dojima-san, Adachi-san." She gave them another nod and turned back to her observation. The conversation the two detectives had was tuned out by following her own train of thoughts.
It would have been preferable to join them at the Inn, but she had not yet fully prepared her new line of questioning. Without that, she could waste either an opportunity to speak to the staff or ask the wrong questions. And going back with new, different questions could be seen as back-paddling by Dojima-san and the local police. Seeing how they treated her already, she needed to avoid such slip-ups.
Business at the liquor store was slow, as it had been. In the last four days that she had taken time to observe the district, Naoto saw few patrons and the shop closed early every day. That the family just had suffered a tragic loss possibly played into the early closing times, too.
The same kimono-clad woman just bowed her way out and turned to continue walking up north.
Checking for any traffic, Naoto crossed the street and dropped her empty Mad Bull into a trash can. She pulled up her collar with both hands, tucked her cap down and slowly meandered north. On height with the textile shop, she glanced across the street to her right. The door now stood open and a young man, bleached blonde, was sweeping out the entrance of the store. That must be Kanji Tatsumi.
Pretending to pull out a map and reading it, Naoto turned sideways, as if it look for a street sign. Lifting her map, she peered through a gap between map and the brim of her cap. The youth had carefully swept the store and now continued on outside. He seemed quite absorbed in his task, enough so that he gave a start and turned to look inside the store when Naoto head a woman call softly "Kanji?"
He turned sharply and shouted into the store. "Ma! Damnit, don' scare me like that! Whaddya want?" The broom was leaned against the outside wall and he stalked back inside.
Naoto turned back to the road and continued walking. Noisy character, that Tatsumi. He actually bellowed loud enough to be heard at least up to the end of the street. She glanced at her watch once more. Just past 11. If it can be assumed that he sleeps in and then helps out at the store, this time would be good to try and arrange a meeting. She had also noticed him out in the afternoons a few times yesterday. So, her bracket of time seemed to lie between eleven in the morning and four in the afternoon. Provided she wanted to avoid too many eyes on her interview, the time between three and four seemed most advantageous, as less people were in the streets.
She glanced over her shoulder briefly, seeing the young man argue loudly about something she had missed. Worth noting was his build. She would need to make sure to carry some additional defenses when talking to him alone.
However, first she would want to talk to the mother. She had briefly seen the woman a few times. Dressed in traditional kimono with a short sash that she could tie herself. It was both a classic look and comfortable; as well as easily accessible in case she needed to get dressed in the kimono on her own.
Naoto stopped beside the liquor store and once more checked her map, this time while peering into the darkened interior of the store.
So far she had not yet made any contact with any member of the Konishi family. While she did want to ensure all questions had been asked, she also wanted to make sure to only bother the grieving family members once she knew exactly what to ask. This would need to be one visit only. Each continued disturbance of their peace would quite likely lead to hostility. And that would undoubtedly compromise the information she was hoping to gather.
Turning away, Naoto looked back south towards the bend in the road. She folded up the map as Kanji Tatsumi returned outside, looking actually armed with his broom this time and continued to sweep. His motions now were rough and it was likely that he rose more dust to settle back down elsewhere, than actually removing any. She tapped the map against her lips a few times as she watched him. Precisely as the police records had indicated. This brief interlude had shown her the quicksilver way in which his temper could change. Caution would be needed when approaching him.
It was time to return to the police station and formulate her plans for tomorrow.
May 16th, 2011
Naoto ducked through the door into Tatsumi Textiles. "Please excuse the intrusion."
Mrs Tatsumi was kneeling in front of some shelves further towards the back of the room and turned in her seated position to bow to the new arrival. "Welcome, welcome to Tatsumi Textiles, please, enter." Another, deeper bow followed.
Her manners switching to full auto-pilot, Naoto returned a more formal bow as well, a small smile on her lips. She enjoyed manners and certain formal behavior. Her immediate impression of Mrs. Tatsumi was if she ever were to consider investing into more formal attire, this would be the place to –
Ah, but we are on a schedule right now.
"Tatsumi-san?" she asked and waited for the woman's nod. "My name is Naoto Shirogane. I am assisting the local police with the recent unpleasant matters." She wanted to be more direct, but the soft, pleasant atmosphere of the store removed some of her briskness.
"Oh, such an unfortunate situation, yes."
"I was wondering if you would be so good as to assist me with a few questions that arose while I reviewed the matter."
"But of course, dear, anything I can do to help."
Overlooking the 'Dear', the young detective pulled a small note book out and flipped to the page she had marked with a dog-ear. "Thank you, Tatsumi-san. Did you have any dealings with Miss Mayumi Yamano?"
"Ah, yes, the reporter. So tragic what happened to her." She nodded sadly. "Yes, I did."
Naoto stopped dead in her tracks. It had been a throwaway question, something to break the ice. She had not expected this reply. "If I may, what was the nature of your interaction?"
Tatsumi-san smiled, rose and stepped to a display of scarves. She let a red silk scarf run through her hands. "She came in to order a matching set of scarves. Sadly, she changed her mind and only bought the woman's scarf. The man's scarf is now on its own."
"Would you permit me to take a picture of this scarf, Tatsumi-san?"
"But of course." She turned and knelt back down as Naoto flipped open her phone and took a picture of the scarf. It would of course be of horrendous quality, but should enable her to spot its twin, should she find it – or ask others about it.
"Thank you. Returning to my questions…"
"Yes?"
"What do you know of the Konishi Family?"
"Very little, I'm afraid. I do not drink and our families were never that close. I believe my son is friends… or, well, at least used to be friends with the Konishi's son." She sighed sadly. "I do not know what I would do, if I had to watch my child being taken to an early grave. If I knew them better, I would offer them my support, but..."
"I see." So she would not find out more from this angle. Perhaps another approach could work then. Kanji was friends with the Konishis, or at least with their children. So these questions will need to wait for now. Naoto obscured her disappointment with a smile for the store in general. "You seems to have a lively trade. Your selection of patterns is formidable."
"Thank you, I do my best to only carry quality. One of my best customers is the Amagi Inn. It's a house of tradition and they provide the same quality for their guests as for themselves."
"So a lot of orders come from the Inn?"
"I'd say they are my biggest customer, yes. Not only do we clothe their staff, we also provide the yukata, towels and some wall scrolls." Tatsumi-san smiles proudly. "Many of their customers come to us to order formal wear after staying at the inn."
"That sounds like a lot of work for one person." Naoto looked about, pretending to look for any helpers. "You run the store on your own?"
"Since my husband's death some years ago, yes."
"Oh, I am sorry…" That could have been avoided. She had not seen any mention of a death.
"Don't be, dear. I am not alone. My son, Kanji, helps me out. Whenever I need a pair of strong arms – or longer ones – he is there to help his old mother out."
"Kanji. Does he work as a regular employee then? What I mean is, does he keep regular hours?"
"No. He helps out as his time permits. He is a student still and too young to fully take on the store on his own. He does have a talent, but, well, he needs to learn"
"I see. Do you know where I could find him?"
"Hm. He left about an hour ago on an errant for me. He should be back soon, if you'd like to wait here?"
Before Naoto could form the words that went along with the shaking of her head, the door slid open behind her. Waiting at the shop when other customers were here as well would be disadvantageous.
A gentle voice politely greeted Tatsumi-san. "Hello."
The shop owner turned her head and broke into a bright smile. "Ah, Yuki-chan. It's so nice to see you."
Yuki-chan. So someone familiar to Mrs. Tatsumi had entered. Removing herself at this point seemed possible – and prudent. She did not wish to involve anyone into her affairs if she did not need to. This way she could preserve as much information as she could and had control over the contamination of her gathered data.
"Well then, if you would excuse me, Tasumi-san."
"I'm sorry that I could not help more."
"It's all right; you've given me plenty to think about. Thank you." She gave the woman another small bow and turned around.
And started.
She had expected to see one person standing behind her, but she found the small store being packed now. Two young women and two young men in the clothing of the local high school stood behind her. Leaving swiftly was the way to go now. She gave them a polite nod and left the store, closing the door behind her.
Putting her note book back into the inside pocket of her coat, she looked back towards the intersection. Where she saw the tall young blonde man on height with the closed hobby store, walking up from the south side of the street. The deserted, empty street. Perfect.
Checking for traffic quickly, she marched right across and approached the younger Tatsumi. Shrugging his shoulders as he walked, she realized he was actually wearing his school uniform. Well. Wore. The jacket was open and draped over his shoulders and instead of the white shirt the code permitted, he was wearing a black shirt with a skull motive.
Her right hand slid into her coat pocket, her fingers slowly closing around a small canister. She had come prepared in light of the fast way in which his mood could swing. She did not want to explain pulling a gun on any civilian, not even on one with a police file the size of a slim novel. But she greatly disliked tear gas. Even if used correctly, a gust of wind could turn the defensive weapon against the user and if used incorrectly, chemical burns could severely injure any involved party.
If she needed it, she would use it. It was a far better solution than any shot could ever be with her gun.
"Tatsumi-san, I presume?"
"Er.. yeah?" He stopped, looking at her wearily first, then taking her in. She noticed how his right foot slowly shifted back, his shoulders slumped down. He was getting ready to either swing out or bolt. He was possibly assessing the young man who just marched right up to him. But he wasn't running or yelling. So far, so good.
"I just returned from your mother's store. I had inquired after you."
No reaction.
"I'm interested in you."
The young man looked confused now. His slightly defensive stance, one foot back, shifted to a more open, relaxed posture. Pulling one foot forward; his hunched shoulders relaxed. Good. She released her grip and pulled her hand from her pocket.
"Uh… what?" The confusion in his eyes had grown into a perplexed frown. It seemed he had not understood her at first. Maybe she needed to restart this, be clearer.
Naoto tipped her cap up and lifted her chin to look at him properly. "I am interested in you. There are things we should discuss."
Perplexity gave way to alarm. His eyes, which had been seizing her up so far, suddenly widened a bit. "Th-things-?" His eyes briefly darted around them, before being glued back to hers.
Considering the recent history this young man had with the police, this was not surprising. While Naoto did not have a TV in her apartment, she had read the police report that apparently had made the local news only three days ago. She needed to talk to him elsewhere, at a more secluded, quieter place. "Are you free to meet tomorrow afternoon?"
Still in his seeming state of shock, he nodded, without saying a word.
A small part of her would later find it a bit disingenuous, but she saw an opening to enhance his coming interview and took it. "Then I'll meet you at the gates after school tomorrow."
"S-sure. Sounds great."
Do not let him think about it now. She turned and brusquely moved up the street, north, towards the end of the shopping district. This would mean she had to take a detour to return to the police station, but she wanted to be absolutely certain that he would not have a chance to change his mind now. He was vitally important to her progress and she'd not lose this chance.
When she had reached the curve of the road just past the liquor store, she suddenly heard him bellow from behind.
"What the hell are you pricks lookin' at?"
Risking a quick glance over her shoulder, she saw him storm across the street, fists clenched, shouting at someone she could not see. Please do not get yourself arrested. At least not until tomorrow evening.