Detective Yamamoto and the Beginning Part 1

WEDNESDAY

"Excuse me, are you Satoshi Sakamoto?" the old man asked. He had kind eyes and wore a rather nice suit. Looking at him, he seemed far too nicely dressed to be shopping in a convenience store, but if he was asking for Satoshi by name, there must be something else at play. The man had an expectant expression on his face, as thought this was simply a part of business.

"Yes, that's me." said Satoshi. As things were, he was working. He didn't necessarily have time to chat, but this guy could be a paying customer. More to the point, Satoshi had a feeling that there was more to come than simple conversation.

"A pleasure to meet you." said the man. "I am Genji Watanabe and I represent Nakamura Publishing. We received an excerpt from your manuscript and I wanted to schedule a meeting to further discuss publication. Would eight in the morning a week from this Friday at the cafe down street be acceptable?" Satoshi was utterly floored. He has been trying for quite a while to get his novel published, and now all at once it seemed as though the pieces were falling into place.

"Yes, yes, that works perfectly!" Satoshi said, nearly tripping over his words in his eagerness to accept the offer. In truth, his manuscript wasn't entirely complete, but with the prospect of publication, Satoshi was certain he could wrap things up in short order. As a passing thought, Satoshi considered that perhaps he shouldn't be so eager lest he appear desperate, but the thought was a fleeting one.

"Splendid," said Genji. "I look forward to speaking with you then. Working face to face is always better.” The old man gave a small smile and went to exit the convenience store. He bumped into another patron. The man dropped what he was carrying and Genji stooped to help him pick up the items he dropped. Satoshi thought it spoke to the man's character that he went to the extra effort to help the instead of merely apologizing. He gave a small apology and left the store.

Satoshi was still thinking about the conversation when that other patron approached the counter. Satoshi looked up and immediately recognized the man. It wasn't that Satoshi knew him personally, but he had been a regular at the convenience store as of late. Everyday, at around this time, the man would enter the store wearing his old, worn out suit, and he would buy the same pack of cigarettes and cheap cup ramen. Today was no different.

 “Will that be all today, sir?” Satoshi asked. The man nodded in response and set his money down on the counter as he did everyday. Satoshi took the money and gave back the appropriate amount of change.

 “Come again soon,” Satoshi said as the man took his goods and left.

The rest of Satoshi's shift at the convenience store was largely uneventful. The usual patrons arrived, bought their usual assortment of goods, and left. Now that his shift was over, Satoshi could move onto bigger and more important things. He had to finish his novel, and he had a little over a week to do it.

Satoshi sat down at his desk with the intention that he would not stop until he completed his manuscript. Inspiration struck, and paired with the sudden deadline, Satoshi sat and wrote. By the dawn of the next day, Satoshi had a completed manuscript that he could get published. He certainly felt pleased with himself. Satoshi had always been capable and willing to writing for long stretches, but for him, this must have been some kind of record.

FRIDAY

Satoshi Sakamoto was in a good mood. His day's work at the convenience store pass by quickly and uneventfully, he had finished his manuscript, and all of his hard work from the previous few months of contacting publishers had finally started to pay off. His first novel was now written completely and one of the publishers he approached had responded favorably. It was a very pleasant surprise that the agent had shown up to his place of employment just to deliver the news personally.

Surely, Satoshi thought, this must be a very good sign.

If a publishing agent saw fit to track down a potential author and deliver news in person, then they must have really enjoyed the manuscript and definitely intended to pursue publication. Of course, it might also have just been circumstantial. The publishing agent was bordering on old age. Perhaps he just felt more comfortable interacting in person. Whatever the reasoning behind it, Satoshi saw it as a positive sign.
Satoshi almost couldn't help but whistle aloud as he walked back to his apartment. The way things were going, he might be able to afford a nicer place to live.

Imagine that, Satoshi Sakamoto: best selling author.

It was something Satoshi frequently thought about, but never before had it seemed like a real possibility until now. Things were changing, and to Satoshi, it felt like they were changing exclusively for the better.

As Satoshi climbed the stairs leading up to his apartment on the third floor, he noticed to his dismay that his front door hung ajar. Horrible realization set in. Someone had been in his apartment. Now running, Satoshi wrenched the door open and to his horror, he discovered that his apartment had indeed been ransacked. All of his meager possessions lie scattered all over the floor. Satoshi desperately wanted to cling to optimism. Maybe most of his stuff had been stolen or broken, but if his manuscript remained untouched, everything would eventually work out. With trepidation, he approached the door to his office. Like the front door, this door was partially open and Satoshi was certain he had not left if like that.

 "Oh no," Satoshi groaned. The thief had struck his office as well. All of his notes and books were scattered all across the floor. His desk was a mess too, strewn with his pens and paper.

My manuscript will still be there, he thought. Who would steal a manuscript?

Sadly he was mistaken. The thief had been thorough. After shuffling through the mess of papers and books that carpeted the floor it was clear to Satoshi that not only was his physical manuscript gone, but so was his computer, on which he had written the entire novel.

Despair began to set in. What was he going to do? He had a meeting with the publisher in a week, and he now had no novel to show for it. Surely, if he went to the meeting as things were now, not only would he be laughed out of the meeting, he would likely be blacklisted for wasting everyone's time.

Could he rewrite the novel? It was highly unlikely. He computer was stolen too. Perhaps he could rewrite it if he could type it out, but that wasn't an option. He certainly couldn't hand write the entire thing, but even if he could, would a publisher accept it? His handwriting certainly wasn't good enough to win a publisher over even if he actually manged to hand-write an entire manuscript.

Could he contact the police? Certainly, but even if they could find his stolen property, could they do it in less than a week? Satoshi wasn't sure. That assumed they took his case seriously and made it a top priority.

No matter how Satoshi thought it about it, the situation looked bleak, and it seemed as though he was well and truly doomed. He would not be able to make use of his publishing meeting. He would either have to show up and apologize or cancel the meeting. It devastated him. Satoshi's one chance, and through no fault of his own, had been torn away from him before he could even truly try to capitalize on it.

Dejectedly, Satoshi sprawled out on his back to stare at the ceiling for a while. He knew he needed to do something, lest everything slip through his fingers, but try as he might, nothing he thought of seemed like it would help.

MONDAY

Satoshi stood outside of the Yamamoto Detective Agency. Despite what Satoshi had heard, he found it unimpressive. Everyone knowledgeable on the agency had told Satoshi that Detective Yamamoto was a highly effective, albeit eccentric detective. To date, no one had ever been dissatisfied with the detective agency's services, and the agency had a verifiable record of solving things quickly.

This sterling reputation contrasted, somewhat incongruously, with the ramshackle state of the building. Some of the windows were cracked or outright broken, and the sign above the door that proudly proclaimed 'Yamamoto Detective Agency' hung askew. The front door hung open, but it didn't seem particularly inviting. In fact, it seemed almost foreboding. Given the state of the place, it resembled an abandoned building far more than it did a business, open and seeking clients.

Nevertheless, Satoshi had no time to waste. If the Yamamoto Detective Agency truly could live up to its reputation, Satoshi couldn't afford to hesitate. The inside of the detective agency mirrored the dinginess of the exterior. More than a few cans littered the ground near the entrance and a thin coating of dust layered everything. Hesitantly, Satoshi knocked on the open front door.
"Excuse me, is anyone here?" Satoshi called out.
"Down the hall, second door on the left," came the reply. The voice was that of a woman, and it spoke with a cheery tone. Satoshi did as he was instructed.
"Good morning, I'd like to hire- Ah!" Satoshi started to explain his situation, but as she came into view of Satoshi, the woman's appearance proved distracting. She was a young woman, perhaps slightly older than Satoshi. Her hair was long and a pleasant shade of light purple. She sat behind a desk by the far wall of the room and had her feet propped up on the desk. Satoshi got the impression of a lack of professionalism, as not only was she nursing a can of beer, but she wore little more than her underwear and a threadbare tank top. Satoshi averted his eyes.

"I-I'm looking to hire the detective's services. Could you show me to the detective?" Satoshi said, making a large effort not to ogle the girl any more than was strictly necessary. The girl seemed entirely unaware of Satoshi's discomfort.
"What sort of problem are you having?" She asked. She took a big sip as she waited for his reply.

"My computer's been stolen. I'm an aspiring author and my novel is on it. I've got a meeting with a publisher in five days, and without my computer I'm screwed."
The girl sighed and set the beer can on her desk. She raised her arms above her head and stretched.

"That sounds boring..." She whined. Internally, Satoshi bristled. What gave her the right to complain in such a manner? Wasn't it her job to help? At any rate, he really couldn't afford to chastise her since this agency represented his only hope, but the prospect tempted him.
"So will you bring my case to the detective?" Satoshi prompted. He hoped reminding her that he was a customer might help with her attitude.

"I already have. Detective Hanako Yamamoto at your service!" She gave a mock salute to Satoshi. "Worry not, young man. I will find your computer, but first I need to shower. Then we can get started in the morning." The detective promptly stood up from behind her desk, accidentally kicked a small pile of empty beer cans and made for the exit. Satoshi found himself at a loss for words. If this truly was the detective that had been highly rated, she certainly must be good to make up for her behavior.

"It is morning!" Satoshi called after her. Detective Yamamoto merely waved in response as she left the room.

As Detective Yamamoto disappeared down the hallway, Satoshi realized that they hadn't really discussed what sort of fee she would charge or when she could find his stolen laptop. Satoshi was somewhat disquieted, but again he reminded himself that Detective Yamamoto was highly regarded, so some degree of trust was reasonable. It was only when the detective's absence approached an hour that Satoshi considered doing something other than waiting around idly. Before he could really make up his mind about what to do, the sound of someone walking downstairs caught his attention.

Detective Yamamoto now dressed more decently. Rather than wearing very little, she instead wore a suit that consisted of a blouse, skirt, and a tweed jacket with a purple bow tie that matched her hair.

The bow tie is a bit of an odd choice Satoshi thought to himself. He ultimately decided not to express this thought, just in case. It wouldn't do to upset the detective.

Yamamoto gave Satoshi a mildly reproving look.
"Hey, stop lingering around my office! I've got a job to do!" she said cheerfully. Satoshi stood, dumbfounded. It wasn't his choice to stand around waiting, but he also couldn't quite find the words to retort. Satoshi couldn't help but notice that the detective deposited a few more empty beer cans in a pile near the door. Abruptly, the detective turned around to face Satoshi.

"The first order of business," she declared, "is to return to the scene of the crime. I need to look at what happened, where it happened so I can figure things out."

  "That would be my apartment. I'll lead the way." Satoshi responded. The walk from the Yamamoto Detective Agency to Satoshi's home was a short and uneventful one. Satoshi thought he might make some sort of idle conversation, but Detective Yamamoto hummed to herself with such determination that Satoshi didn't dare to risk disrupting her concentration. As Satoshi approached the main entrance of his building, he opened the door and held it open, prompting the detective to go in ahead of him. She merely stared at him blankly, as though she was trying to parse the meaning of his gesture. With a small sigh, Satoshi gave up and walked in first, shortly followed by Yamamoto. Satoshi led Detective Yamamoto into his apartment complex, up the staircase and over to his front door.