I hadn’t realised it at the time, but I must have struck a forbidding figure when yelling at Takumi’s neighbours earlier. When fire trucks turned up at the scene, I’d handed over the medical care to their first responders, not that there was much the fire crew could do without the correct medication, but at least they got some oxygen into the old man by way of a mask. It sustained him until the ambulance arrived shortly after and he was quickly loaded aboard, intravenous drips inserted into him, and another mask placed over his mouth and nostrils. I told the paramedics my suspicions that the old man had overdosed on insulin and that I’d loaded him with glucagon to counteract it, but I mentioned nothing of the suspect I’d seen running from the house. The crime wasn’t their concern, only looking after the victim.
The ambulance took off at speed, leaving the fire crews to contend with the blaze, and me, the other patient. Luckily I’d only a few shallow nicks in my face and forearms from crashing through the window, but I gladly accepted a suck on the oxygen tank as well. I hacked my lungs up for two or three minutes afterwards. It was only when I moved out of the way and stood alongside my car and caught a reflection in the windscreen that I realised just how awful I looked. My hair was full of splinters of glass, dust and blades of grass from the lawn. It had also been singed in a couple of places. My face was smeared with much of the same and also streaked with soot. Blood from my wounds had congealed amid the mess, dark runnels from forehead to chin, making me look like a watercolour painting of a nightscape gone wrong. That was just my head: the rest of me was in no better shape. Added to the filth, the bitter stench of smoke clung to me, not to mention the equally bitter stink of sweat that had flooded out of me during the time in the house.
Despite all of that, people approached me, shaking my hand, patting me on the back. To them I was a hero. I didn’t expect or even want the acclaim, but it did no harm to smile politely and wave down the adulation. I was frustrated, wanted to get to my car and conceal my weapon before the cops arrived. Coughing and spluttering, I excused myself and made my way over to the Chrysler and popped the trunk. The fire was still burning brightly, and the structure growing unstable, despite the fire crew’s attempts to save it. I busied myself by pretending to look for something until the opportune moment arose. The roof tilted at one corner, then came crashing down: the resulting cloud of sparks and smoke that belched into the sky was fascinating enough to catch everyone’s attention and I quickly squirrelled my SIG out of the way beneath the spare wheel. I closed the trunk and walked to the far side of the street, to make sure my car was a good distance away from me for when the police arrived.
I had considered leaving prior to their arrival, but knew it would be no use. There was no sense in having then chase me across town, as a possible suspect in an arson case. It was best I waited and told a plausible enough story to appease them.
I expected a patrol car to respond and gather witness statements. I hadn’t banked on Detectives Jones and Tyler arriving on the scene. Even as they clambered from their car, I could tell Gar wasn’t happy to see me. He gave me dead eyes all the time they spoke with the fire chief, then he left his partner to march towards me.
‘Why doesn’t it surprise me to find you here, Hunter? Seems like we’ve a mini crime wave going on in our city and everywhere I look I see your face.’
His comment wasn’t particularly accurate, but it would have been pointless telling him so.
‘Who says there’s been a crime?’ I asked.
He jerked a thumb at the burning house. ‘What does that look like?’
‘An old man, having taken the wrong dosage of medicine, making a careless mistake with a cigarette?’
‘Bullshit.’ He prodded me in the chest. ‘I knew it last time, and I know it now. You’re involved in what’s going on here and you’re sure as hell going to tell me the truth.’
‘I don’t know anything. I just came by to call on a family friend, realised the house was on fire and dragged Mr Yoshida into the clear. We’ll have to wait until he recovers before we’ll learn how the fire started.’
‘Bullshit,’ he said again, a man of little imagination when it came to cursing. ‘You know what happened here.’
‘All I know is that I just saved a man’s life. I could do without being treated like the bad guy.’
‘You want me to treat you like a goddamn hero? Bullshit! For all we know you started that goddamn fire. You ask me, you’re our prime suspect.’
I was tempted to echo his catchphrase, but didn’t. ‘Why would I do that, only to carry Mr Yoshida outside? If I was trying to murder him, would I have given him an antidote and then risked my own life by jumping through a window with him on my shoulder?’
‘That’s my point! How’d you know to be here and come to his rescue? You were checking on a family friend? My ass. Seems way too convenient if you ask me. You’re up to your neck in this, and I’m going to find out the truth.’
‘Are you going to arrest me?’
He considered it, but then shook his head. ‘No, not yet. I’m in a good mind to, but not yet.’
‘Good. Then I’ve got nothing more to say to you.’
‘The hell you haven’t. You’re a material witness to a crime and you are going to speak.’
‘Sorry, Gar, but that’s all you’re getting from me. I’m going back to shower and put on some clean clothes. When you feel like being a bit more civil, in other words you ask me nicely, then maybe I’ll be prepared to pay you back in kind.’
‘Bullshit!’
‘The only bullshit here is your attitude,’ I told him — remaining calm. ‘Come and find me when you’re done throwing your weight around.’
He reared back, puffing out his chest, the way I recalled from our first meeting. His mouth opened and closed a couple of times, but nothing issued from him. Not until I turned to walk away. He called after me, trying to reassert his position in front of the few members of the public who’d borne witness to his accusations. ‘Yes. Thanks for your time, Mr Hunter. I’ll be in touch.’ He spoiled his chances of vindicating himself in their eyes by adding, ‘Real soon.’
Despite brushing Detective Jones off, I knew he wasn’t someone to underestimate, and I wasn’t deliberately trying to piss him off either. The sensible thing to do was to cooperate with him, tell him about the figure I’d seen running from the house and to work to bring the killer down together. But to do that would be to betray Yukiko and the others, so I chose the option of silence. It risked the detective dogging my every step, and putting paid to any hope I had of running my own enquiries into the killer’s identity, but it was preferable to throwing Yukiko and her friends to the wolves.
I drove away, having to wind my way through the fire trucks and hoses blocking the street. As I passed Gar Jones he was staring at me again, and the dead eyes were back. His partner only gave me a cursory glance, but when he recognised me I thought he nodded and his look was one of grudging respect. The fire chief standing beside them waved at me, without doubt appreciative of what I’d achieved. I waved back, but kept going.
I’d just cleared the last fire truck when I saw a taxicab speeding towards the scene. The cab pulled up, the rear door flew open and a young woman bolted out. She passed within feet of me and I got a look at her face a moment before she cupped her hands over her mouth to stifle a cry of horror. There was little in her features to indicate her racial heritage other than a slight tilt to her eyes that gave her an exotic look, but I made an educated guess that she was Takumi’s granddaughter, Melissa. I thought about stopping the car and going to her, to reassure her that her grandfather wasn’t stuck inside the burning house, but decided against it. I would allow the detectives to give her the news. I wasn’t after her thanks, I was only thankful that the girl had not been near when the house went up. I drove on, a smile curling at the corners of my mouth.
If Takumi was lucky, and if I’d managed to administer the glucagon in time, I was hopeful that he would pull through. I’d denied his killer another notch on his gun belt, and that pleased me. But I was angered that I’d had the bastard in my sights and had not taken him down. I wondered what the possibilities were that I could pick up his trail, catch up with him and drop the bastard in his tracks, and decided that they were nil. He’d be long gone by now, and with only the briefest of glances at his face I’d never be able to identify him even if he was standing among the crowds watching all the drama. As I came to that conclusion, the smile slipped away.
I’d told Detective Jones more than one white lie. I’d no intention of showering or changing my clothes. I’d a more urgent task. I wanted to be at Takumi’s side when he woke up. Going to the hospital in my present state might raise eyebrows, but it was also good cover: I’d look more like a patient than anything else and would be able to get closer to him than if I turned up groomed and fresh-faced. The cops would be heading there next and I wanted to be gone from the hospital before they arrived. I drove, mulling over what I’d speak to Takumi about. I just couldn’t decide what I would broach first: if he knew the identity of his enemy or the necessity to keep quiet about him when questioned by the detectives. I wondered if his sense of giri was as strong as Yukiko’s.