Roppongi, Tokyo, on New Year's Eve

Roppongi, Tokyo, on New Year's Eve
Among other things, I am writing a detective series that takes place in Tokyo. The first novel, "Be Careful What You Ask For," centers on a much-admired Tokyo police inspector being forced to confront his ties to a crime family while investigating a murder in Roppongi.

Saturday, June 30, 2012

Detective novel continued 2

Here are a few more scenes from the detective novel I'm writing:
(previous posts can take you back to the beginning. It's worth it!)

        Watching Sato interrogate the two black GIs, Endo was sure they were lying to save their own necks and would incriminate this Jones person who killed Kimi Yamada. Rejected by a beautiful Japanese woman and the little waitress repeating the “No, Charlie, no!” And then the GI fled the scene without talking to his comrades or taking them with him? It was good enough for him, and he looked forward to getting this GI Jones in a room and getting a confession out of him.
        Still, he wanted to know what Sato was thinking. He asked him, “You think he did it?”
        “I don’t know,” Sato said. “But it means contacting the Americans. That means the press, headquarters, all kinds of interference. Such a nuisance. But it must be done.”
        Endo wondered why it made Sato look so unhappy.
        As Nakamura made his way out of the club a tearful, enraged Hayashi cornered him just before he reached the exit, grabbed him and spun him around, her hands like talons reaching out to claw the man’s face.
        “You lied about Jun Fujimori, you ass!” she hissed, furious at feeling she was part of an elaborate lie. She knew the club’s owner hated that Kimi Yamada was involved with a black American GI. She knew he was the son of a yakuza boss, a thug, a skirt chaser, and a man who could not control his temper. But criminal or not, she did not want any part of misleading the police. Hayashi’s fury propelled her words: “You knew he saw Kimi with the GI. And you know he sent a note to the bar. Why didn’t you tell that detective?”
        “Are you kidding?” he whispered, watching Sato talking to the GIs in the other room. Ashen, desperate for the opium he craved, Nakamura hissed, “You want to get killed? I don’t. When he saw her with that black foreigner he was ready to go crazy. It was all I could do to keep him from doing something stupid, the ass. I know he owns the place, but he’s dangerous when he’s angry and he wanted Kimi for himself.”
        Hayashi didn’t care what excuses Nakamura came up with. “That cop is going to find out that a gangster’s kid owns this place and then he’ll back asking all kinds of questions,” she warned Nakamura. “And I’m going to tell him.”
        “You say anything,” the manager said, transforming into something truly reptilian and menacing, “and you will be dead. I don’t want anyone tracing this back to us. Or we’ll both be dead.”
        Hayashi knew Nakamura was right. She slumped onto a chair and moaned, “I don’t want Kimi’s death on my conscience.”
        “You don’t even know how she died,” Nakamura said. “That GI could have done it.”
        Wiping her tears away, she looked at Nakamura. “That GI loved Kimi.
        “You don’t know anything.”
        “I know more than you think I do. And if you don’t tell that officer about him…”
        “Don’t say a word,” Nakamura said, evil in very word, “or you’ll be next.”
        Hayashi felt too drained to move. Nakamura’ menacing scorn filled her mind. She knew the creepy little man was right. Mentioning the club owner’s name could be fatal. And she liked her life, small as it was.
        Poor Kimi.
        Hayashi knew she would never be able to get that girl out of her mind.      

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