The dame was stiff. The morgue people had already gone over her and prettied her up, which was for the best.
I took a quick picture of her. Not that any paper would publish it, but I might need the proof for my story. And no one could claim that face framed by pink hair could belong to anyone else.
"You done here Mac? This ain't exactly legal ya know," the kassha behind me said. I nodded and took a step back so Orin could slide the cabinet shut. I'd seen what I'd come here for.
Yuyuko Saigonji, the biggest bootlegger in the Yakumo family. Or at least, that's who the dame had been. Now she was "Jane Doe #12."
"Cause of death?"
"Suicide," Orin replied with a certain bitter irony.
That of course meant it was being covered up by the cops on the mob's payroll. Which explained why this little kitty cat called me up.
I looked over at the coroner. "What's the real cause of death?"
"Someone nailed her to a tree with a knife. Right through the chest." The kassha pulled out a pack and lit up a cigarette. "Death was quick, but not instantaneous."
I swiped a smoke off of her and lit it up while Orin squawked in protest. "What do the cops who aren't on the payroll think?"
"We think you're putting your nose where it doesn't belong."
I swore softly. Sure enough chief Satori was standing at the door, giving us 'the look.'
"I was just heading out," I said as I walked out of the morgue. "I owe you lunch Orin."
"You owe me way more then one lunch for this Aya," she said with a sigh.
I left as Satori started chewing out the poor coroner. It was weird. The cops who weren't corrupt seemed to think it was wrong to give us fine reporters information, even though it was the only way to get things done. Idealists. What are you gonna do?
I'd been an idealist like that once. It was one of the reasons I was dead broke.
I don't want to talk about the other reasons.
I headed out into the street and hopped onto the back bumper of the trolley with the kids and the bums. As it started the slow journey to downtown I started trying to figure out what the heck was happening.
The biggest question of course was, is this sign of a gang war, or did Yuyuko somehow cross the don?
It was hard for me to believe that it was a internal matter. Yukari and Yuyuko were friends. Close friends. Honestly the only reason Yuyuko wasn't helping run the thing was because the woman wasn't the moving and shaking type. She liked doing the runs and that's it. For Yukari to have snuffed her.... Well, I just didn't believe it.
But there was something weird. I always figured if Yuyuko was in a casket, her driver Youmu would be right beside her. There was no way someone could have jumped the woman when her bodyguard wasn't within shouting distance.
Had Youmu back-stabbed her boss? That seemed less likely, but this was the mafia. They were only slightly less treacherous then reporters after all.
If that was the case Yukari's hitmen would be scouring the city.
I sighed. I didn't have enough information yet. The good thing was I knew how to get that info. The bad thing was it meant talking to the mob directly. And that was always a tricky affair.
Especially given that I'd be talking to her.
Still there was no way around it. I was out of whiskey, and the rent was long past late. I needed cash, and that meant I needed a story.
As I headed back towards my flat, I kept an eye out. Sure enough I spotted the little street rat about halfway home. “Hey, kid!”
The little fairy girl in worn clothes left her little gang and ran up to me. “It's Cirno! Not kid!”
“Yeah yeah fairy.” Her angry expression melted away when I help up two nickles. “I need you to take a message for me.”
Little brat smirked at me. “Trying to get a date?”
I took a swat at her but she ducked. “Just tell the Yakumos that Aya wants to see them.”
“Which one?” Cirno asked with a smile.
“They'll know which one.”
The little kid ran over to her friends and held up the cash. The scamps began running off towards the trolly station, already planing the speech they were gonna give the mooks at the front door to try to scam another nickle off 'em.
Wonder if that ever worked? Too bad they won't tell me.
I shrugged and headed back to my apartment. I had to make sure my suit was pressed.
----
The speakeasy was bustling when I got there. It was Wensday night, and that meant the owner herself would be making an appearance.
I walked up to the bouncer /ticket-keeper who was guarding the back room. “I'm here to see the pretty bird sing.”
Suika gave me a long look up and down before holding out her hand. “Looks like you managed to dress properly this time Ace. Anyway the fee's one fifty.
I swore under my breath. “It was a dollar even last time. What's with that?”
The oni sniffed at me. “Rent went up. You paying, or not?”
I sighed and fished around for some quarters to go with the dollar. Suika happily took a major portion of my remaining funds and opened the door. “The owner's just about to start, so you'll have to wait to chat with her. But you can get two complimentary 'sodas' while you wait.”
At least service hadn't dropped. One fifty was still cheep for the amount of whiskey I was gonna be getting.
I walked in a headed straight to the bar. The green haired woman in a suit behind the counter simply poured me a glass. Wriggle always knew what a customer wanted. Admittedly what a customer usually wanted off of her was a strong drink, but Wriggle always remembered the details. That was important in a bartender.
Properly equipped I looked around, but she wasn't here yet. I wasn't surprised. She never was one to be early. So I turned to the smokey stage. It was time for Mystia to sing.
The human backup players started, and then the smokey air was filled with wolf whistles as Mystia slinked out in a sleeveless black dress. It came with gloves that went up to her elbows, and with slits that were longer then the gloves. The room rapidly fell silent as she grabbed hold of the microphone like a lover.
“The singing sea
The talking trees”As the mournful words filled the air, I slowly sipped my whiskey.
“Are silent in a noisy way
The stars are bright
But give no light
The world spins backwards every day”Someone tapped me on the shoulder. I started and turned, just in time to see
her enter.
Ran Yakumo.
(Oh, look at that)She'd kept her golden hair short, and the brilliant sheen off her ears and tails complimented the sleek dark purple dress she wore perfectly. Her honey eyes glimmered in the light of the speakeasy, and my stupid little heart fluttered a bit when she smiled at me.
There was applause. I thought it was fitting, before I realized they were applauding for the song, not for her.
She slid gracefully into the chair beside me. “Do you mind if I join you?”
“Never,” I replied.
She smiled at me again and politely thanked the bartender for her drink while I tried not to stare. It was hard. I hadn't seen her in... a long time.
Ran tossed back her whiskey, she was that kinda dame, and then turned her full attention to me. “So Ace Reporter Aya Shameimaru. What is it you wanted to say to me?”
I bit back several unprofessional requests, and forced myself to get to business. “I'm sorry for your loss.”
A cloud passed over her pretty face at that. “I see. So you heard about poor Yuyuko then.”
I nodded. “I take it that it wasn't an in house fight then.”
Her eyes narrowed. Fortunately my other love was calling me, so I didn't shrink away. Much.
“No.” She paused for a moment. “It'd be better if you dropped this Aya dear. The Yakumo won't try to stop you, but it's dangerous.”
“I don't suppose you'd explain why that is pretty lady?”
She just pulled out a pair of smokes, and put them to her lips. I lit them and she transferred one to me.
After a long drag I figured she'd given me her answer. “Well,” I replied, “I'm afraid that's the only story I got. So I'll be following it anyway.”
After a moment I continued softly. “Thanks for your concern though, Ran.”
Ran stared at me with those golden eyes of hers again. “You know, if it's money you need you can get a new job. There's plenty of places a clever person can fit in. Especially an Ace like you.”
I tipped my hat to her. “If I meet a clever person I'll send them along to you. Me? I'm just a reporter.” I lowered my voice a little. “Besides, wasn't the only reason you saw me because your Boss wanted me wrapped around your finger? A pet writer at the paper.”
“You know it wasn't just that Aya.” She looked hurt, and I had to force down the churning in my gut that look gave me. “That may be how we met, but there was more to us then that.”
“There was. But was why we met.” I finished my whiskey. “And why we're apart.”
“Oh how I love you so, lost in those memories
And now you've gone
I feel the pain, feeling like a fool, adieu.”We sat, with Mystia's singing giving body to our silence. Wriggle refilled my glass. Our cigarettes slowly burned down.
The crowd applauded again. Our cigarettes were down to ashes.
Ran downed her second glass and stood up. “I know I can't stop you Ace. But this is bad news, Aya. And it's totally hush hush. I'm not gonna sing.” She leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. My face burned at the touch of her lips. “Take care of yourself.”
“Ran.”
She paused and I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Why don't you ever kiss me on the lips?”
“Because,” she smiled sadly. “I promised myself that would be my apology if Yukari ever asked me to kill you.”
She turned around and walked out of my life again, leaving me with her perfume, a death threat, a aching heart and a clue.
Some days joining the mafia seemed very tempting.
But it'd never pan out. She loves me because I'm too stupid to take orders, and I love her because I can't have her. We're the perfect couple, each equally broken.
That's what I tell myself over and over as I sat there on my own again.
After a bit I realized the crowd was a little thinner, and the whiskey was gone. I sighed and looked around. “Hey Wriggle. Mystia coming out any time soon?”
Wriggle looked up from the glasses she was polishing. “I think she was staying in the back for a little longer miss. Want me to call her out?”
“If you'd be so gracious.”
The bartender gave me a little nod, then slipped out. In a few minutes she came back with Mystia, who was wearing a much more reasonable brown dress. She gave me a look, like she was assessing how much talking to me was worth. She probably was. This dame had a head for finance. Dumb as a brick everywhere else, but great at finance.
“There's something you want to ask me Ace? I figured you'd had all the company you needed for the night,” she said.
“Very funny,” I sighed. “Look I just got a few simple questions, then I'm gone.”
She shrugged. “Sounds fair. Keep giving me good reviews and we've got a deal.”
I didn't argue. It's not like her place was gonna stop being the number one spot in town after all. “You've got the best ears on the ground. You heard anyone outside of the Yakumo trying to sell whiskey?”
Mystia's eyebrows rose at that. “Oh, so the rumors are true?”
“Rumors?”
Wriggle spoke up next. “I heard there's a new group out there willing to sell to anyone. Small distributors, even direct to people. The stories are all fuzzy though, and the prices on the bottles aren't competitive to people like us.”
I frowned. “But who'd be stupid enough to challenge the Yakumo in this city? And who'd be dumb enough to just sell to any mook? The Feds will bust them in no time. J Edgar Hoover loves busting second string mafia.”
"I heard that these people didn't care about the fed,” Mystia smiled. “It's a Canadian orginization. All the people on this side of the border are either muscle or stooges.”
Canada, eh?
Looked like I was taking a trip.
---
The ride on the ferry was as dull as usual, save from the occasional looks I got from the humans. Youkai aren't supposed to be buying the cheap seats, but I figure, what the heck. It's not like I have a reputation to save, right?
Anyway, Canada. I'd never expected someone on that side of the border to get involved with our messes. Might as well have said that liquor was being smuggled by Moonanites. Still Mystia knew business. And if she said Canadians were involved, either it was true, or someone was making a big show about it being true.
As I wandered onto the shores of fair Canada I looked around for a booth that sold cigarettes. They were always cheaper over here, even with the 'stupid American' markup, so I figure'd I should take my share.
I'd just found one when the sound of a horse approaching caused me to check the road. Sure enough a familiar white haired mounty was there. I guessed my luck was turning around. She caught me looking at her and frowned down at me.
“Aya. You're up here sticking your nose in other people's business again eh?” Momiji asked with her usual dour tone.
“Just doing a bit of research ma'am,” I replied cheerily. I figured I should play the part of a stupid tourist for now. “I wanted to interview a few breweries before I headed home.”
Momiji frowned. “Really? I figured you'd be looking into the gang war that's brewing on your side.”
“Well now isn't that interesting,” I smiled brightly at her. “Perhaps you could give me the scoop on the matter my fine friend. For the public interest.”
“Eh?” Momiji looked at me strangely for a second, then her face fell. It seemed completely out of place until she started talking again. “Then you hadn't heard. I should have known.”
I was confused, then I started to get scared when she slipped out of the saddle. “One of the Yakumo family's 'hidden' stills went up in flames. Word is probably just hitting the street, but they say it was a firebombing. And all the family heads were there inspecting the place at the time.”
I felt my stomach fall out from under me. I must of slumped or something because Momiji moed forward to catch me. I waved her off and killed my emotions. I had a job to do dammit! “I see. Any more information?”
“No. It's still early, eh?” She replied. “They called us because one of the victims said something about Canada, but the guy passed away soon after.”
“I see.” I blinked a few times. “You know if....”
Momiji shook her head. “Like I said, no one's been identified to us.”
I nodded again. “Right. Thanks for the scoop.” I turned away and headed towards the stall. I needed a smoke. Lots of smokes.
“Aya...”
“I'm fine Momiji.”
It was a lie. But she couldn't call me on it. After all Canada's finest had work to do.
I got the smokes and then grabbed a pay phone. Damn call cost too much, and it took twelve rings but I got through.
“Who the hell is this?”
I sighed at the kassha's voice. “Aya. You know why I'm calling.”
“Shit.” There was a long silence on the other end. “Sorry Mac, I don't got much for ya. Feds kicked us all out. Chief Satori's fucking pissed too.”
“Do you have any info?”
“Well the old hag herself isn't there. They figured that out right quick.” There was another long silence.
Eventually the silence started to gnaw at me, slowly tearing into my gut bit by bit. “Tell me Orin.”
“Well ya see Mac. They....” She took a deep breath. “They're saying they think they found a kitsune in the wreckage. Nothings confirmed ya know but....”
“I gotcha. Thanks.”
“Aya, I-”
I hung up. It's not like it mattered, right?
----
I wandered aimlessly for a while, burning through about a half pack of cigarettes. The streets just sort of blurred past me.
Eventually I realized I'd stopped in front of a large brewery. Specifically the one I'd wanted to investigate.
I couldn't find any good reason to stand here and die, so I forced myself to walk inside.
The secretary was typing when I walked in. She spun around on her chair when the bell on the door chimed. “Oh! Welcome to the Autumn Leaves brewery. How can I help you?”
I held up my press card. “Aya Shameimaru. I hope this isn't a bad time. I'm looking into a story, and I'd like to speak with someone in charge. Under confidentiality if they want it.”
She frowned at me. She could tell something about me was wrong, but it wasn't her job to make those decisions. “I'll call Ms Aki for you.”
“Thanks.”
A lesser goddess in a surprisingly tasteful orange-red business dress arrived not too long after. “Hello Ms Shameimaru. I'm between paperwork right now, so I'm not sure how much time I can spare, but if it's just a few questions about my shop or the industry...?”
By then I'd assembled enough of my brain to follow the routine. “Yeah. You see, I'm doing a small piece about smuggling. I wanted to talk to one of the big producers to find out how our friends in Canada are working on our behalf, despite not needing to.”
She looked at me carefully, smile unwavering. She knew I was buttering her up, but she wasn't sure if I was trying to trap her, or someone else. I did my best to look innocent.
“Well, it'll have to be quick, but I can answer a few questions,” she finally replied. She was obviously smart. She could leave whenever she wanted with that kinda excuse.
Fortunately I wasn't after her. “I have some notes here that I wanted to confirm. First off, and I don't want names, most of the liquor going cross border comes from breweries owned by Americans, correct?”
She nodded. “Indeed. Certain organized crime families bought out some under performing breweries and started smuggling. I'm afraid I can't explain why they haven't been taken care of though.”
I shrugged. “What about the people you sell to? Do you think some restaurants are buying extra cases to send to America?”
Sizuha nodded politely to me. “Probably a few. There's no real way to prevent our buyers from letting a few bottles 'slip' across the border. We do try to prevent major trafficking by checking sales figures. As do all our competitors really. Except for the ones the Yakumo own of course.”
“Hm... And no businesses have started up recently?”
“No,” she shook her head. “It's not like you can just rush into the business. At least not with quality product.”
“I thought it only took a couple of months,” I replied. “At least for average stuff.”
“Well perhaps if you were only shipping it to America,” Shizuha said with a shrug. “But getting the licenses to sell in Canada takes some time.” She thought for a moment. “I suppose someone might be just sending brew down the river, but they'd be losing a lot of money that way.”
“I see. Well thanks for your time miss. Should I list you as a source?”
“Anonymous source please,” she replied politely.
I nodded and left.
---
I don't remember how I got back across the lake, much less how I made it back to my flat, but some time later I woke up with a hangover.
Groaning I managed to stumble through my morning routine. I only plucked out a few feathers while preening and my hair wasn't standing up. That was good enough really.
I proceeded to sit at my desk and think. Or mostly just sit at my desk. I was supposed to be getting a story, but there was no need for investigative reporting now. The nine to fivers working for the various papers would all be churning out their own take. There was no way the police would keep it secret.
All I had was another dead friend, and a lead on river smuggling. In short nothing.
Then it hit me.
Anyone trying to cut in on the Yakumo had to be working in volume. Which meant they could only be shipping things down one river. The Shirokawa. The Sanzu was too well watched for everyone who didn't have the police in their pockets. The others were all too small.
It was a stupid lead to follow up on. Following the river looking for a hidden port? That seemed like a recipe for disaster, but it was all I'd got.
Besides. If I found and exposed it I'd toss a big wrench in their plans.
I grabbed my camera and jacket. I might be walking for a while today.
----
It was night time when I finally found the damn place. I honestly would have walked right past it if they hadn't set up lights.
It was still an impressive operation. It was mostly rabbits. Probably 30 of them, each moving crates off a simple raft in near silence. Every time they finished unloading a raft a new one would come in. I could see three shacks where they probably stored the product until they could truck it off to the buyers.
I snapped a few shots, moving to take pics from multiple angles. Once again I wasn't expecting much out of the pics, but they'd confirm my story hopefully. I was well on the way to the front page. And to sending these scum up the river.
I started packing up when the last raft sailed off. I figured when they weren't busy working they might actually be busy looking for intruders. It was time to book.
I just finished moving my film to a waterproof bag when, suddenly there was a burst of light and a massive pain in my head.
---
I woke up to find two magician types looking down at me. My head was aching, I was tied to something, probably a chair, and there was a cement mixer here in the shed with me. Behind me I could hear the sound of the river from where the floor should be. Things weren't looking good.
“I told you she'd be awake soon Yorihime,” the calmer looking one said.
“I didn't argue dear sister,” replied the one who's look screamed 'enforcer.'
I wasn't exactly in a position to ask the questions I wanted to here. I tried playing dumb. “Look, I don't want any trouble, and I don't want to know what you're doing. Just blindfold me and dump me somewhere and I promise my lips'll be sealed.”
“Hm...” The enforcer girl smirked at me. “I've never thought about using a blindfold with cement overshoes. That an American thing?”
“Now now, no need to taunt the reporter,” the other woman replied insincerely before turning to me. “We might give you a blindfold. If you answer our questions.”
“Sounds fair. I'm good with questions, though I usually prefer asking them,” I replied with as much bravado as I could muster.
“How many of the Yakumo know about this place,” Yorihime asked.
This was going to be a bad questioning session it seemed. “I don't know. I ain't part of the Yakumo family. I'm just a reporter.”
I expected a backhand for that, but they just shook their heads sadly. “I think she's trying to lie to us Toyohime.”
“Indeed Yorihime.” The brains held up a photo in front of me. It was me, sitting with Ran at Mystia's. I closed my eyes. Never thought the dame would get me killed like this. “So. Want to rethink your answer?”
“If you were spying on us you know we each went our separate ways.” I managed to snarl. “She's just a good friend. Assuming the dame's still alive.”
“You honestly think-!”
“Wait sister,” Toyohime said.
The woman looked down at me for a long moment. “I think she's telling the truth. Or at least most of it.”
“You're smarter then most,” I replied. I did my best to make sure she knew it wasn't a compliment.
“Which means we don't need her.” My gut tightened up again as the two nodded to each other. “Let's have Reisen clean the place up.”
I opened my mouth, maybe to beg for my life, maybe to spit out a curse at them. I don't remember. When suddenly something outside exploded loudly.
The blast was followed up by the rattling sound of machine gun fire. The two women each stood there shocked for a moment before forgetting all about me and running outside.
For the next five, ten minutes I sat in the shack, rocking back and forth to try to get my chair to fall over and hoping none of the stray bullets that chewed the damn shack up hit me.
Then silence fell like a hammer.
As my ears slowly stopped ringing I could hear injured people crying faintly over the creaking of the shack door. Then I heard footsteps approaching, two pairs.
The first face through the door almost made me weep tears of joy. It was Youmu. That meant the Yakumo had found this operation and taken it out. I was in much better shape.
The second face through the door nearly made my heart stop.
I'd never seen her in her working clothes, but they fit her well. It didn't have the devastating effect of her dress, but there was something appealing about the power and control her dark purple suit radiated.
“Glad to see you're not dead,” I managed to say.
She gave me a ghost of a smile. Youmu however frowned and fiddled with her straight razor. “Ya know Ran, we can't let anyone know we didn't torch this place completely.”
Ran's next words killed all the joy I'd found. “Yeah. Give me some time alone.”
I couldn't think of what to say as Youmu left the room and Ran slid forward. I could see pain in her eyes, but also resolve. She reached down, cupped my chin in her hands, and gave me the sweetest kiss on the lips I've ever had.
It lasted forever. It ended far too soon. As she pulled away I managed to lean my chair forward and meet her lips again. Once again I was in heaven.
The chair finally slipped back. We didn't move for a bit.
I wanted to ask her so many things. To beg for my life. To see if there might be a chance for us, away from this madness. But in the end I had to settle for trying to make her smile. “I accept your apology.”
I actually got a gasping chuckle and a teary smile out of that.
“Thank you Aya. And goodbye.”
Her pistol rang out, three times. There was a burning in my chest and the sensation of falling into black murky depths.
----
I looked up at the incredulous kid. “And that's the story. I changed my name, headed out west, and kept my reporting quiet.”
Hatate looked like she didn't believe a word I'd said. Whatever. I rubbed at the scar on my shoulder. It wasn't my problem.
“Alright, I can see how pretending to be dead cause the mafia was after you is a good idea, but why are you still running flower shows and city council elections? Prohibition's over!” The girl waved at the bar we were sitting in. “It's not like they'll get angry if their old alcohol smuggling station gets revealed today.”
I sighed and finished off another glass of whiskey. “If I ever show my face again, they'll know Ran deliberately missed.”
Hatate paused at that. Even a kid like her could figure out what that would mean.
“So why did you tell me this?”
“I dunno.” I tossed my tab on the bar and stood. “Maybe it's because I still want to be a real reporter. Maybe I'm just drunk.” I walked towards the hat rack and grabbed my hat. “Maybe it's because I wanted to talk about her again.” Hatate stood, but didn't follow. “Anyways, no one will believe you so it doesn't really matter, does it.”
I put my hat on and headed out into the rain outside.
---
Pushing the deadline, and kinda weak, but I figured I should let someone have the pleasure of beating me.