Chapter 3

THE SAME DAY

Detective Yamamoto strode with purpose, contrasted slightly by how Satoshi slunk beside her, trying to remain innocuous. Despite how abjectly exhausted she seemed to have been only moments ago, something about watching the man strike the cat had so infuriated the detective that all weariness had been forgotten like vague dream upon waking.

Even as she walked without a hint of caution, Detective Yamamoto somehow remained outside of the man’s awareness. Taro, though being held as he was, could clearly see the detective, and seemingly had the presence of mind to avoid alerting his captor to her presence. Satoshi was less willing to rely on such good luck than the detective, so he took pains to appear nonchalant and incidental, hoping that if he were spotted, he could be written off as a bystander.

After a good period of time, not longer than half an hour, the tall, thin man with the pencil mustache came to a run-down house. Satoshi, who had been by far the more cautious of the pair, held out his arm to forestall the detective. He didn’t know how or why the thought occurred to him, but he suspected that now would be the most dangerous part of their little pursuit.

“Wait a minute, detective,” Satoshi whispered. The detective stopped and looked at him questioningly. “Let’s hide out and wait,” Satoshi clarified. “I’ve got a feeling he’s gonna look around before entering.”

True to his prediction, the man stopped by the front door of the ramshackle building and peered around. When he seemed satisfied that he hadn’t been followed and no one was around to witness his comings and goings, he opened the door, stepped inside quickly, and shut it behind him with a loud thunk.

“Good call, assistant,” said the detective. “Let’s go.” As the pair snuck to the door, Detective Yamamoto slowly reached out and tried the door knob. It failed to twist. For a moment, Satoshi considered that given the state of the place, the knob might just be sticky, but as the detective strained to turn it, they independently came to the conclusion that it must have been locked.

“Damn,” swore the detective. “We’ll need to find another way in.” Silently, the pair retreated from the front door and began to sneak around the side of the house in hopes there was backdoor and that the kidnappers guarded it less diligently.

Sure enough, there was another door, and one that appeared even less structurally sound than the front door. Tentatively, Detective Yamamoto approached it and tested the door knob. It creaked as pieces of the metal mechanisms rubbed together, but the latch clicked open. The noise seemed deafening to Satoshi’s ears as he attempted to make himself inconspicuous. He was readily aware that to a passerby, he would appear to be a common thief or home intruder.

Detective Yamamoto, having unlatched the door, but not yet fully prepared to open it, backed off. Satoshi gave her an inquiring look, silently asking if there was some new development he should be appraised of. Detective Yamamoto simply fished her phone out of her pocket and made a show of calling Officer Ishioka once more.

Satoshi would have expected to immediately hear Officer Ishioka’s ill-tempered side of the conversation despite the size of the phone speaker, but Detective Yamamoto spoke quickly and quietly. He assumed her tone had made the diminutive cop temporarily reasonable.

“Listen Hitomi,” Detective Yamamoto whispered into her phone. “I think we’ve found where Katsumi Hirabayashi is being kept.” The detective quickly gave as many relevant details as she could think to provide and listed the street address of the house.

“Alright, I’ve got it,” said Officer Ishioka. “Please standby while we dispatch a patrol car.”

“I don’t think there’s time for that,” said Detective Yamamoto. “Satoshi and I are going in. If we don’t, I won’t be able to solve my other case.”

“Hanako, you can’t be serious,” Hitomi said. “The kidnapper might be armed.”

“I’ve got to do it,” said the detective. “Just send backup quickly.” Before Officer Ishioka could protest any further, Detective Yamamoto ended the call. “Alright, assistant,” she said. “Let’s go. I don’t want anything to happen to poor Taro.”

“Backup is on the way?” Satoshi asked. Detective Yamamoto nodded in a manner intended to be more reassuring than it actually was. Bending to the inevitable, Satoshi heaved a sigh and prepared to follow Detective Yamamoto.

As they carefully opened the door and crept inside, Satoshi – despite the peril of the situation – couldn’t help but feel slightly at home due to the squalor of the place. It wasn’t that he was comfortable here, but the place reminded him very much of the detective’s office in terms of cleanliness, which was familiar if not reassuring.

The pair took great pains to watch where they walked, simultaneously avoiding the garbage that littered the ground and planning their footsteps carefully to keep the floor from creaking. The last thing either Satoshi or the detective would want at this point was to be discovered and caught unaware by the kidnapper.

Approaching the end of the hallway, Detective Yamamoto found two options ahead. The first was a rickety-looking staircase leading upstairs; the second was a room beyond the stairs, illuminated by an unseen light. Detective Yamamoto silently motioned for Satoshi to wait by the staircase. He nodded in understanding and got into position. Detective Yamamoto, meanwhile, moved over to the threshold of the room.

Peering around the corner, it seemed to be a kitchen. In one corner stood a refrigerator and by that was a table at which sat the tall, thin man. He hadn’t taken notice of her, and given the option, she would prefer to keep it that way. The man seemed to be alone, angry, and lost in thought, nursing a can of beer. For a brief moment, Detective Yamamoto wistfully thought about all the beer she could be drinking right now, but snapped herself out of it with an effort of will.

No, she thought. Save Katsumi, return Taro, and then you can have a beer.

Deciding that, barring some error on her or Satoshi’s part, they could likely ascend the stairs safely. She lurked back to Satoshi and gestured again, this time jerking her thumb upwards. Satoshi nodded in understanding and began to climb up the stairs.

It was slow, careful work as the pair were forced to gingerly test each stair and gradually shift their weight to keep any creaking to a minimum. About halfway up the stairs, Detective Yamamoto slipped, putting her full weight on one stair to prevent herself from tumbling down. The wood of the stair let out a loud, whining creak at a pitch the detective feared was imminently audible to the kidnapper.

The pair froze. Satoshi was sure they would be caught now, but as they waited, keeping perfectly still, it seemed as though they were being given a reprieve. After an indeterminate amount of time that felt like hours, but could only have been three minutes at best, the pair resumed climbing the stairs.

At the top of the stairs, Satoshi was mildly relieved to find only a short hallway leading to a single room. The door was ajar ever so slightly. As with before, Detective Yamamoto crept ahead to scout ahead. Peering through the crack in door, it seemed like the room was virtually featureless save for the girl tied to a chair in the center. To the best of her knowledge, Detective Yamamoto couldn’t see anything or anyone else that might give her pause.

Again, she motioned for Satoshi to approach while she slowly opened the door.

~~~

As the door opened, Katsumi feared the worst. The tall, thin man, who she had heard referred to as Juro, had arrived earlier and had hurled the cat from earlier into the room. She had feared that in his anger, he might do something to her, but he hadn’t at the time. She feared she may not be as lucky this time, but as the door opened, and two unfamiliar figures entered, her fear left her, displaced by curiosity.

One figure, a woman with long, light purple hair took something out of the pocket of her tweed jacket and alternated looking between it and Katsumi. Seeing the glint of a silver chain, Katsumi realized it must have been her locket. The woman gave a thumb’s up to her companion, a dark haired man. The pair conferred with one another in whispered tones and then set to work. While the man walked over and tried to scoop up the black and white cat, the woman approached her.

“Don’t worry Miss Hirabayashi,” whispered the woman. “You’re in safe hands now. I’m Detective Yamamoto and the police are on the way.” Katsumi nodded in relief as she relaxed her tense posture. The detective meanwhile started rummaging through clutter on a desk by the wall. After a moment, she found a knife and immediately set to working on the ropes that bound Katsumi. After a few short moments of cutting, Detective Yamamoto had freed the girl's hands. Katsumi, in turn, carefully tore the tape from her own mouth.

Satoshi, in the meantime, had busied himself with finding the black and white cat Taro. The room had a multitude of places a cat could hid, given the furniture, the holes in the walls, and the exposed rafters. He ultimately succeeded, finding Taro crouched in a corner under a desk, but the poor animal was terrified to the point of being unreasonable. Something – likely the tall, thin man – had frightened it to the point that it hid in the corner of the room and would not approach for any reason whatsoever.

“Come on,” Satoshi grumbled as he reached in vain for the cat. “Come on.” Just as his fingers brushed the cat’s side, a tell-tale creaking noise made his blood freeze.

“Well, well, well,” said Juro in a tone of barely constrained anger. “I thought I heard a few rats scuttling around.” Detective Yamamoto and Satoshi each whirled around and Katsumi froze in place. When they said nothing, the tall, thin man walked into the room, shut the door behind him, and loomed over the kneeling form of Detective Yamamoto as she worked to free Katsumi's legs. Before the detective could say or do anything. Juro’s hand shot out and struck her across the face. Detective Yamamoto tumbled to the ground and put her hand to her cheek while concealing the knife with her other hand.

“Hey!” bellowed Satoshi, standing up and moving towards the man. Juro stooped, grabbed Detective Yamamoto by the front of her jacket, and hauled her to her feet.

“Don’t get any funny ideas, kid,” spat Juro. “Or your friend is gonna get it.” Satoshi stopped, looking to Detective Yamamoto for direction. The detective looked more irritated than anything at being taken hostage. As her one hand still clutched her injured cheek, she brought up the knife with her other hand and drove the blade into the man’s hand.

Though the blade barely bit half an inch deep, the man recoiled, letting going of the detective and clutching at his injured hand, screaming in pain and anger.

“That’ll teach you,” scoffed Detective Yamamoto as she returned to unfastening the ropes binding Katsumi’s legs. Satoshi, deciding that perhaps Taro could wait for a moment, stood over the man, placing his foot on the man’s forearm, pinning him in place.

“Sit tight, buddy,” Satoshi said sourly. “The police are on their way and I’m sure they’ll be interested in what you have going on here.” The tall, thin man said nothing, but continued to grunt in pain and clutch at the wrist of his wounded hand.

Finally, Detective Yamamoto managed to untie the remainder of the ropes, allowing Katsumi to stand up on her own. She gave a thumb’s up to Satoshi and strode over next to him. As the pair took a moment to reflect their good deeds, they heard a creaking coming from the stairs below.

“That sounds like the police now,” said the detective moving to the door.

“No, wait!” said Katsumi, reaching out to forestall the detective, but it was too late. Detective Yamamoto opened the door and found the barrel of a pistol pointed in her face. Immediately, she raised her hands in a gesture of surrender and took a few steps back into the room. The man wielding the pistol, far shorter and fatter than his partner, walked into the room, saw Juro bent double on the floor and shifted his gun to point at Satoshi.

“What’s goin’ on here?” he demanded.

“They’re with the cops,” hissed Juro as he drew himself up to his knees. “They stabbed me.”

“Well, I guess we better pay ’em back in kind,” said the fat man. “All a’ you, get up against the wall.” Katsumi moved first, and with some hesitation Detective Yamamoto and Satoshi followed. Once they were far enough away not to bedevil him, Juro stood back up and removed the knife from his hand with a pained grunt.

“So Hitoshi,” said the tall, thin man. “What do you reckon we should do with a pair of rats?”

“I dunno, Juro,” said the fat man. “Gut ‘em?” Juro appeared to consider this suggestion before offering one of his own.

“Why don’t we just shoot them?” he asked. “We haven’t heard anything in reply to the ransom, and we don’t need these two. We can just kill them all.”

“Fair ‘nough,” said Hitoshi. “But just one bullet each's too quick. Can’t we take some time?”

“Might as well,” conceded Juro. Hitoshi grinned devilishly and raised the gun more purposefully towards the trio. Time seemed to slow down to a crawl. Satoshi began to contemplate his mortality. Sure, if he was fated to die now, he supposed he could find peace in that; his life had, after all, been pretty good for the most part. There was, however, this feeling that things shouldn’t end like this. There were things he still wanted to do in life, and none of them involved dying here and now. As he resolved himself to act, even if his only action was to shield the others, he was caught completely off guard.

There was a sound like a cornered animal shrieking fiercely to intimidate a predator and a black and white figure descended into view. The fat man was taken completely by surprise as Taro leaped down from the rafters and onto his head, claws and fangs bared. Immediately, the cat latched onto his head with his claws and bit down viciously. The fat man immediately dropped the hand gun and moved his hands to grab the cat.

As his hands found purchase around the torso of the cat, Taro was only emboldened, biting down and leaving livid red marks and punctures that began to bled. As soon as the gun dropped and hit the floor, both Satoshi and Juro moved to grabbed it, knowing that whoever wielded it would gain the upper hand.

Juro, being closer, made it to the weapon first, stooping awkwardly to pick it up with his uninjured hand. Satoshi, not bothering to stoop, kicked Juro in the head. The man reeled and fell onto his side, remaining still save to clutch at the side of his head.

Just as his partner in crime collapsed to the ground, Hitoshi managed to wrench the cat from his face. Grunting in pain, he hurled Taro, who crashed into the wall just next to Detective Yamamoto and tumbled to the ground where he lay unmoving.

Stunned by the sudden violence, Detective Yamamoto was spurred into action when Taro was pried from the fat man's face. As the he took a moment to take stock of the damage that had been done, tenderly touching the wounds, Detective Yamamoto approached and swung her foot up, catching the man in the groin. Even as he fell, shaking the rickety floor in the process, Detective Yamamoto began to stomp on the man and kick him in the ribs. She couldn't be sure how effective any of this was, but she felt something had to be done to get even for Katsumi and Taro.

After she had worked out some of her aggression, Detective Yamamoto turned her attention to the recumbent form of Taro. Satoshi had already rushed over and had gently scooped up the creature. Taro seemed a bit rattled, but otherwise unharmed. Despite the situation having calmed down, Taro still retained a crazed look in his eye that was exacerbated by the blood that stained the white fur around his muzzle.

“Well,” said Satoshi, short of breath due to the adrenaline surge. “What do you say we all go down to wait for the police?”

“Yeah,” wheezed the detective, bracing herself against the wall. “That sounds like a good idea.”

~~~

With the prospect of putting an end to a fairly high-profile kidnapping, the police responded with alacrity. Of course, they were none too happy about Detective Yamamoto’s intervention, but not because of the harm that came to the kidnappers.

With the cat Taro in tow, Detective Yamamoto and Satoshi waved their goodbyes to Katsumi as she was escorted by the police back to her family. By the time they returned to Detective Yamamoto’s agency, it had gotten quite late indeed. Detective Yamamoto privately suspected she would have to call her client and arrange for her to pick up Taro tomorrow morning. However, as the agency came into view, it also became clear that there was someone waiting by the front door.

“Hello!” Detective Yamamoto called out. The client, for it had been the girl from before, looked up and over to the detective.

“Hello,” she said. “Did you find Taro?”

“Sure did,” replied the detective, hoisting up the cat to show him off. The girl was immediately delighted and ran over to embrace the cat, but stopped short when she saw the state of him.

“Did something happen to Taro?” she asked, a look of horror passing over her features.

“II guess you could say that,” said Detective Yamamoto.

“He’s not hurt,” said Satoshi, interrupting to clarify. “But he was heavily involved in the kidnapping you might’ve heard about.” The girl’s look of concern deepened.

“What happened?” she asked.

“It’s doesn’t bare getting into now. Just know that Taro was pivotal to solving things, and maybe you should give him an extra special dinner tonight as a reward.” The girl nodded as Detective Yamamoto passed the blood-stained pet over to her. With Taro in tow, the girl scampered off. Satoshi and Detective Yamamoto turned to one another.

“Wow,” exhaled the detective. “What a day.”

“It's not every day we solve two cases at the same time,” Satoshi said.

“Too right, assistant,” replied Detective Yamamoto. “What do you say we crack a few beers celebrate?” Satoshi smiled.

“Sure,” he said. “Searching for missing pets works up a thirst.”