TekLords, page 16
“And if anybody hereabouts has ordered that sort of thing, then they’re probably linked with Tora Hokori.”
“It’s a long shot, because they’d have been very cautious about how they gathered what they needed,” Beth said. “I know somebody who’s an associate prof at Kyoto Tech. He’ll let me use their computer facilities.”
“You seem to know guys on just about every spot on Earth.”
“Basically I’m a very sociable person.” She smiled. “This is an academic friend, Jake, not a former lover.”
“Was I sounding jealous?”
The phone buzzed.
He hurried to the alcove. “Yeah?”
A small, thin Japanese woman of about thirty appeared on the screen, smiling shyly. “Mr. Jake Cardigan, please?”
“That’s me.”
“I’m Yoshiko Kiru,” she said in a soft, gentle voice. “I was Norman Itoko’s partner. Would it be possible for you and I to meet?”
“It would, yes. I was just going to call the detective agency.”
“We might talk at the Golden Pavilion Teahouse in one hour. Is that possible for you?”
“Yes.”
She told him how to find his way there and ended the call.
Jake punched out the number of the Senuku Agency.
A white enameled robot in a crimson kimono answered. “Senuku. How may I help you?”
“Do you have a Yoshiko Kiru working there?”
After three seconds the robot replied, “I have just consulted the employee roster, sir. The answer is no. May someone else help you?”
“No, thanks.” He clicked off the screen.
Beth came over to stand behind him. “She’s not really with the agency, huh?”
“Nope, she isn’t.”
“What are you going to do?”
Jake grinned. “Have tea with her.”
The teahouse occupied a two-tiered gilded pagoda that sat in the center of a small clearing and was surrounded by tall pine trees. White gravel was laid out in swirling patterns on both sides of the wooden walkway leading to the front entrance.
As Jake, by himself, approached the Golden Pavilion someone inside suddenly bellowed in pain.
A teacup shattered, a chair fell over and then a large Japanese came stumbling rapidly backwards out into the afternoon. His head hit the wind chimes dangling next to the doorway and produced a quick disjointed tune. The big man half turned, went staggering by Jake, fell off the wood planking and dropped to his knees in the gravel.
Jake went on inside.
At a table near the entryway Yoshiko Kiru was dabbing at her jacket with a plyonapkin.
“I hope he didn’t collide with you,” she said.
“Nope. Who was he?”
“I have no idea, but he persisted in trying to join me.”
“Management threw him out?”
“I threw him out. Won’t you sit down, Mr. Cardigan?”
He sat down.
Nearby a robot waiter in a black kimono was gathering up the remains of a delicate teacup.
Jake said, “The Senuku Agency doesn’t know that you were Itoko’s partner.”
“Yes, that’s true. Our relationship was unofficial.” The waiter placed a new cup in front of her. “I also shared an apartment with him.”
Jake poured tea for her, then for himself. “He had a wife, too.”
“He saw her infrequently. Unfortunately today was one of the times he chose to visit.”
“If I mention you to Inspector Hachimitsu—will he know who you are?”
“Yes, I believe so.” She sipped at her tea.
“Okay. You wanted to talk to me.”
Yoshiko nodded. “Norman was looking forward to meeting you, to working with you,” she told Jake. “In anticipation of your arrival, once he’d been briefed by your Cosmos Agency, he began making discreet inquiries...Yes, I know. Obviously he wasn’t discreet enough, since they must have realized what he was up to.” She paused to take another sip of tea. “The crate you were interested in, the one that might possibly have contained the body of the gentleman you’re interested in... She smiled faintly. “I find I’m talking about Dr. Chesterton as though he were simply a piece of merchandise.”
“To the Hokoris he was. Was Itoko able to find out anything about the crate?”
“Two things, yes,” she replied. “That it was definitely delivered to the Arashi Warehouse Complex. Once there, however, all record of it was expunged.”
Jake tapped the side of his cup with his forefinger. “That could mean Chesterton was in it and that they don’t want anyone to trace him beyond here.”
“Norman and I believe Kyoto was Chesterton’s final destination.”
“Why—is Tora here?”
“Norman suspected that she was. He planned, once you’d arrived, to help you find her.”
He asked, “Can you help me do that?”
“I should like to try, Mr. Cardigan,” she said quietly. “That is, if you trust me.”
“I’m inclined to,” he admitted. “But I’m going to have to do some checking first.”
“I understand.” She gave him her vidphone number. “Contact me once you’re convinced I won’t betray you.”
“I’m sorry about Itoko.”
“You never met him.”
Jake said, “But I’ve met you.”
33
SHE KEPT FINDING HIM.
No matter how deftly Gomez slipped out of his tiny, expensive room at the towering Kanashii Hotel and how careful he was to leave no trail, Natalie continually managed to track him down.
For instance, at a little after midday he was in the Star-Spangled Burgers restaurant on the edge of the Shinjuku neighborhood. Gomez had gone there to meet with the private investigators his detective agency had arranged for him to work with while he was in Tokyo.
“What a dump,” commented Larry Kanzoo, returning to their small red table and holding out his tray to Gomez. “Does that look like a Double Gobchoker Burger to you?”
“Been a long time since I’ve viewed one, but it does seem close.”
“Naw, they left off the flapping pickles.” The Japanese private detective sat down.
“Maybe you ought to search more thoroughly through that pile of food for traces of—”
“And it’s no use complaining. Naw, all the flapping robots behind the counter are designed to be surly. That’s because this hole is based on an American burger joint. I hope to hell you feel at home here, Gomez.”
“As a matter of fact, I’m more partial to Japanese fare. So if you lads would like to switch venue, it’s fine with me.”
“What a sewer this is,” said Leroy Kanzoo, returning to the table. “Look what they’re trying to pass off as a Double Fisherman’s Dream Burger. The head’s still on the flapping trout.”
“It’s supposed to be, Leroy,” said his younger brother.
“Naw, it isn’t. Check the pic on the vidmenu right in front of you.”
“I did earlier and you can definitely see little beady fish eyes peering out at you from under the lettuce if you look very carefully. But quit complaining. Gomez says he loves this sinkhole, since it reminds him of home.”
“On the contrary, gents,” he said. “But let’s turn to business.”
“The shipping crate you’re interested in.” Leroy lifted the topmost bun and scowled at the fish lying there.
“We dug into the matter of that crate, which was delivered to the esteemed Chikatetsu Merchandise, Ltd., outfit,” said Larry. “By the way, do we bill you direct for our services or send it along to Cosmos?”
“Cosmos. Now tell me about the—”
“I can’t eat anything that looks back at me,” complained Leroy.
“The crate,” reminded Gomez, who wasn’t eating anything.
Larry took a bite of his burger, chewed unenthusiastically for a moment. “You suspected that maybe some gink was stashed in the crate that was delivered to Chikatetsu on the date in question,” he said finally.
“That’s one possibility, si.”
“But not in this instance, Gomez,” said Leroy. “This particular case was packed full to the brim with illegal Tek chips.”
“You sure?”
The elder Kanzoo brother nodded. “The crate was seized by the Tokyo Drug Enforcement Bureau two days after it arrived.”
Gomez frowned. “Nothing like that showed up on the records we checked.”
“That’s because the TDEB gink who did the seizing neglected to file a report.”
Larry added, “Instead he made a substantial contribution to his retirement fund by peddling the Tek to certain shifty merchants around town.”
“Then that means—”
“Oh, crap,” said Leroy. “Here comes that carrot-topped bimbo again.”
Glancing around, Gomez spotted Natalie Dent making her way through the tables toward him. “Join us for lunch, Nat?” he inquired cordially.
The redhaired reporter halted beside the table, stood surveying him with disappointment showing clearly on her face. “You haven’t exactly stuck to our bargain.”
“Goodbye, Gomez.” Gathering up his burger, Larry departed.
“We’ll keep in touch.” Leroy followed his brother out, leaving his burger at the table.
Natalie sat down. “What have you found out about Dr. Hyaku?”
Gomez spread his hands wide. “Not a blessed thing, carita.”
“I come upon you consorting with a pair of the most unscrupulous private eyes in all of Tokyo, men whose reputations are so wretched that they make you look like a saint by comparison, and yet you claim none of you has come up with a blessed fact.”
“I am a saint,” he interrupted to assure her. “As soon as I find time to file all the proper forms, I’m sure to be canonized.”
“Didn’t those seedy Kanzoo brothers tell you anything of importance?”
“Nope, nada.”
Smiling with satisfaction, Natalie placed her small black purse on the table beside Leroy’s abandoned plate. “My sources are, in this instance at any rate, considerably better than yours,” she told him. “It appears that Dr. Nobu Hyaku, age forty-one and formerly a much respected neobiologist, has been for the past several months, if not longer, in the employ of the Hokori cartel and at present he’s working directly with Tora Hokori.”
“She’s dead and done for,” said Gomez guilelessly, “so I don’t see how he could possibly be employed by—”
“Tora isn’t dead at all, Gomez, although she really was seriously injured in a maglev train accident,” said the reporter.
“Okay, bonita, I’ll take your word for it. Tora is still extant and Doc Hyaku is working for her.”
“What’s more, Gomez—and, listen, I’m pretty near certain that you’ve been lying to me since we reached Tokyo, and I base that conclusion chiefly on the fact that nobody I know, most especially you, can bring off looking as innocent and pure as you’re trying to look right this minute. Anyway, as I was about to say, Hyaku recruited, although corrupted might be the better word, at least two of his colleagues. Both of them experts in the same sort of biological weaponry area that the missing Dr. Chesterton excels in.”
Gomez asked, “Do you know where Dr. Hyaku has gotten to?”
“All I’ve come up with so far is the possibility that he’s with Tora in a temple she’s using as her headquarters. The trouble is, in a city like Kyoto there are something like a thousand temples and shrines, so that zeroing in on the exact one is going to be difficult.”
“Hold it, almita. Tora and the doc are allegedly in Kyoto now?”
“According to my sources, they are, yes.” Opening her purse, she dipped a hand inside. “There is something else, and I’m the first to admit, even though you accuse me of fancying myself infallible, that I’m not quite certain what to make of it.” She drew out a small, frayed photograph and handed it across to him. “An informant passed this on to me. It was taken, at considerable risk, in Kyoto a few weeks ago.”
The picture showed a portion of a laboratory. On a white table in the foreground lay an incomplete female android. The head and torso were finished, however, and it was obviously a simulacrum of Tora Hokori. “This must have been taken in the workshop,” speculated Gomez, “where they turn out their killer androids.”
“Yes, but I can’t exactly figure out why they would want to fashion a kamikaze dupe of Tora herself. Unless somehow they were—”
“Christ!” Gomez had noticed the nearly complete male android stretched out on the table directly behind the one that held the replica of Tora. “This is a sim of Agent MacQuarrie—one of the government guys assigned to look after Beth Kittridge.”
“Then they must intend to kill her.”
“Her or Jake—or both of them.” He jumped to his feet. “I’ve got to make a call right now.”
“You’re not, please, going to attempt to ditch me once again, are you, Gomez?”
“I am not,” he assured her. “Soon as I get back from the vidphone, I intend to accompany you to Kyoto with all haste.”
Dodging tables and patrons, he sprinted to a phone alcove. He tried Jake’s number at the inn in Kyoto, but got no answer. He settled for contacting the Senuku Detective Agency and telling an operative there to find Jake fast. And warn him.
34
AGENT MACQUARRIE CAUGHT UP with him a block from the teahouse.
“Hey, Jake. Wait a minute.” The government man came pushing through the tourists and pedestrians on the busy Kyoto sidewalk.
Stopping in front of a multistoried curio supermarket, Jake asked, “Why aren’t you watching Beth?”
“One of my other men is...But, Jake, listen. You’d better come along with me.”
“Something wrong?”
MacQuarrie put a hand on Jake’s shoulder. “We don’t think she’s in any danger of dying, but Beth is unconscious and—”
“What happened to her?”
The agent gave a sad shake of his head. “Hell, I don’t know exactly,” he admitted. “She came back to your rooms at the inn about a half hour ago and everything seemed fine. Then, a few minutes later, I heard a crash. I rushed inside to find her out cold on the floor of the bathroom.”
“Is it the plague?”
“I don’t think so, but we got a doctor in to look after her,” said MacQuarrie, “I think maybe you ought to be with her, unless you’re too busy with your—”
“No, I’m not too busy,” he answered impatiently. “Is Beth still at the inn?”
“I told the doctor not to move her until we got back. You can ride over in my skycar.”
“Sure, okay. Did she hurt herself in some kind of fall, do you think?”
“There’s no evidence of that, Jake. I really haven’t any idea of what exactly is wrong with Beth,” said the agent. “I’m parked just around the corner.”
Jake walked along beside him. “What does the doctor say—how serious is this?”
“Well, serious enough for me to come and fetch you.”
Jake ran across the garden. The afternoon was chill and a thin mist still hung over the shrubs, miniature trees and colored gravel.
The sliding glass doors stood open; some of the mist had drifted into the living room.
There was no one in sight.
“Doctor—how is she?” called Jake, hurrying toward the bathroom.
For some reason the door was shut.
He yanked it open.
There was a body sprawled on the bright white floor.
But it wasn’t Beth.
Lying on his back, his throat cut, was Inspector Hachimitsu.
“What the hell is going on?” Jake took one step back.
Then a sudden and overwhelming pain got hold of his body. It shook him and he struggled to fight it off. He stiffened, gasping for air. Then he fell over onto the bloody deadman.
Someone had used a stungun on him.
The fog was much worse.
The living room was thick with it.
The afternoon had grown much colder. Jake found he was shivering as he sat there on the Futon. “Sorry, I didn’t catch what you said,” he mumbled apologetically.
Inspector Hachimitsu bowed politely in his direction. “I was asking how you were feeling, Mr. Cardigan.”
Jake winced. “Wait now. Didn’t I...didn’t I find you in the John? You were dead.”
“This is very unfortunate.” The police inspector moved closer to him through the swirling mist. “I had been assured by your superiors that you were no longer addicted to Tek.”
“I’m not a tekkie,” insisted Jake. “I never used the stuff once I got out of the Freezer. Well, once on the first day out but never since then.”
“Once, twice. Like most Tekheads, you’ve long since lost track of how many—”
“Your throat was cut. In there. Blood all over.”
The Japanese tilted his head back, smiling sadly and tapped at his neck. “As you can see, Mr. Cardigan, I remain intact and alive.”
Jake tried to get up, found he couldn’t just yet. His legs hadn’t returned entirely to his control. “Okay, let that pass for now. What I really want to know is how Beth is.”
“I have no idea,” replied Hachimitsu. “Do you feel well enough, after your recent bout with Tek, to—”
“Hey, I don’t know exactly what’s going on, Inspector. But I am damn sure I haven’t been using any—”
“Oh, so? Then all the paraphernalia beside you on the table belongs to someone else, does it, Mr. Cardigan?”
Jake hadn’t noticed the low black table before, nor what was atop it. This was Tek gear sure enough. The small black Brainbox, the electrodes to attach to your skull, a scatter of five cockroach-size Tek chips. “Somebody’s trying to frame me.”
“Again?”
“There’s no rule says you can only be framed once.”
“Please, allow me to ask you what I came to ask you, Mr. Cardigan. Are you up to identifying someone for me?”
“I suppose so, I don’t know. Can’t you tell me where Beth is?”
“Have you looked in the bathroom?”
“I already did that. Can you maybe shut the doors and keep some of this damn fog out of here?”
