"But," said Adachi, "There is the matter of the evidence."
"Quite so," said the prosecutor. "And the evidence is quite convincing."
"Bring them in?" said Adachi.
The prosecutor shook his head. "I think we should talk to the Namaka brothers fairly soon," he said, "but not quite yet. Let us see what we can turn up in the next couple of weeks. The indicators are clear, but a successful outcome will require more in the way of proof."
"We are working on it," said Adachi. Despite some unease, which he did his best to suppress, he could feel the case beginning to crack. The feeling was that of exhilaration, the lust of the hunter. It would give him the greatest pleasure to put the Namaka brothers behind bars.
"This is encouraging progress," said the prosecutor in dismissal. Adachi bowed respectfully. He felt tired but good.
* * * * *
Three days later, the Tokyo MPD forensic laboratory cracked the encryption code which had prevented Hodama's security video from being viewed.
The encryption technology was similar to that used to prevent unauthorized viewers from watching satellite TV without a decoder. The principle was easy to understand. Finding the key to the particular code used by Hodama was another matter. The permutations seemed to be endless. It was a problem for a supercomputer, it seemed, the kind of thing that the U.S.'s worldwide eavesdropping agency, the NSA, excelled at.
In the end, thinking laterally, old-fashioned police work rather than technology was brought into play. A detailed examination of Hodama's business connections revealed a shareholding in a company that manufactured decoders. From then on, it was just a matter of talking persuasively to the company president. At first he was unwilling to cooperate. A trip to police headquarters and a tour of some of the facilities for overnight guests worked wonders.
The lab sent over several unlocked copies of the tape which could be played on an ordinary video machine. Adachi had an initial viewing in the squad room, then took a copy back to his apartment to study at his leisure. Besides, he wanted Chifune's input; and he wanted Chifune.
Surprisingly, she was available. She tended to be elusive. She said that unpredictability stimulated ardor. Privately, Adachi thought his ardor for Chifune did not need any help. He only had to think of Tanabu-san for his desire to become well-nigh intolerable. Other women no longer interested him. He had tried a few times since he had started sleeping with Chifune, but the alternatives paled in comparison. It was a damn nuisance.
He was accustomed to a robust and uncomplicated sex life enjoyed in much the same physical way as a bout of kendo — and now his whole being was involved. It was a marvelous, awful, terrifying feeling; and a bloody nuisance. Running any murder investigation required absolute focus and concentration. And the Hodama business was not just any old slice of mayhem.
Hodama's security videos were linked to the cameras directly in front of the house and inside the main reception area. There were cameras elsewhere, but these were merely connected to monitors. The lab had intercut the tapes from the two cameras linked to recorders to give some chronological sense, but had edited out nothing.
The video had a grim documentary quality about it. There was no sound and the pictures were in black and white, but nonetheless they were compelling.
Unfortunately, they appeared to be of little help.
"Dark business suits and ski masks," said Adachi cheerfully, "and surgical gloves. These are not particularly helpful people. And note the license plates are covered with black cloth or something similar. Very professional and unfriendly."
His voice was relaxed. Chifune had no sooner entered his apartment than he had taken her on the tatami floor, or maybe she had taken him. It was hard to know with Chifune. She now sat naked beside him, the video controls in her hand. They were drinking chilled white wine and leaning back against beanbags.
It was a rather pleasant way, thought Adachi, to carry on an investigation. He was not naked. Almost everything had come off in the encounter, but he was still wearing his tie — his Tokyo MPD tie at that. He lifted the mangled thing off his head and threw it like a ring at the door handle. It hung perfectly on the first shot.
"We've got the make of the car, the number and build of the assailants, and the makes of several of the weapons for starters," said Chifune. "Don't be lazy. You can't expect them to wear name tags."
"Whiz it back," said Adachi. He was pleased with his VCR. Matsushita, he considered, had done him proud. It featured all the latest gadgetry, not the least of which was resolution enhancement, freeze frame, and variable-speed slow motion. If there was something to be seen, they would see it.
Chifune reran the video, and again, and again, and again. And then she noticed Adachi's revived tumescent condition and decided they both could do with some attention.
Afterward, they ran the video twice more. By now they were concentrating on the figure who seemed to be giving the orders. His face and neck were completely concealed; his suit gave off no clues, except to show that the wearer was a tall, powerful man.
The camera had caught his outstretched arms as he waved his people to surround the building. Here there was an interesting detail. Through the thin surgical glove on the left hand, the outline of a heavy ring could clearly be seen.
"Kei Namaka?" said Adachi. "The build is right, the body language is right, and he wears a ring something like that — I'll get the lab to do some photo enhancement. But hell, would he do a hit himself? He would be insane to. These people never do their own dirty work. They're insulated."
"Hodama didn't die any old way," said Chifune. "This was personal. And I think it may well be political — which is interesting."
"What do you mean?" said Adachi.
"A conventional killing gets harder to solve as time goes on," said Chifune. "A hit like Hodama brings the beneficiary out of the woodwork. I don't think we're looking closely enough at who benefits. Think about it. Power abhors a vacuum. Kill a kuromaku and who is likely to surface?"
"Another kuromaku," said Adachi slowly. "A puppetmaster — and his puppets."
"Killing Hodama may be about revenge," said Chifune, "but I think it was mostly about power. Look for a power shift."
Adachi stared at her. "What do you know?" he said.
"More than you," said Chifune, "but neither of us knows enough. I'm working on it."
"Politics!" said Adachi disgustedly.
"Not just politics," said Chifune. "There are linkages here." She stroked Adachi's cheek and then kissed him. "Powerful interests, corruption, a lot of history, and terrorism. This is a dangerous, bloody business, my love. So keep wearing your hardware."
"‘My love’?" said Adachi, looking very pleased and rather like a schoolboy.
Chifune ruffled his hair. "Figure of speech," she said. "Don't go getting ideas."
The rest of what Chifune had said slowly surfaced. "Terrorism?" he said. "What the hell is going on? What ever happened to old-fashioned murder?" He was quiet for a while. "You know," he added, "our killer may just have a sense of humor, and have made the most of the moment when he found Hodama about to have his bath, but I don't think so. I don't see this as a nice, clean political assassination. I think Hodama was meant to die in agony. The thing may be political — given who Hodama was, must be political — but I think the primary motive was revenge."