Much of the aquarium had been taped off, and inside the cordon a white-overalled scene-of-crime team was at work.
They were guided outside the tape to a small group, and as the new arrivals approached, Fitzduane saw the Spider and Yoshokawa- san and a tall, distinguished-looking man in his sixties who looked familiar but whom he did not know. All three men were in evening dress, and then Fitzduane remembered Yoshokawa's saying something about a formal dinner of Gamma's ruling council. As he made the connection, he realized who the third man must be: Adachi's father.
The Spider made the introductions. He looked devastated. There was little trace of the imperturbable Deputy Superintendent-General here. His normally slicked-back hair was tousled, and shock and grief were etched into his face.
The Spider acted as their guide. He took them past the cashier's office to where the fish tanks started.
The floor was slick with fresh blood. There was so much of it, the atmosphere reeked.
First there was an immense irregular pool of thick crimson, with a pile of what looked like blood-soaked clothing to one side. Then a long, broad streak indicated where something had been dragged toward some tanks in the farther distance.
Floodlights had been brought in to supplement the aquarium's normal lighting, and shoals of multicolored fish of every shape and size swirled and pirouetted and flashed and glinted in the unaccustomed glare.
Bloody footprints marked other parts of the floor.
'We can reconstruct what happened, I think,' said the Spider. 'Adachi- san was going to meet an informant, a man with criminal connections known as the Eel. Adachi- san entered the aquarium, and as he turned the corner here' – he pointed at the pool of blood – 'he was struck by an assailant with a sword. The blow split his skull and cut deep into his body, killing him instantly. He was then struck a second time. This second blow was not necessary, but it was made, I surmise, as a gesture of contempt for the victim. It opened up his torso down to the groin. Effectively, it eviscerated him.
'Next, Adachi- san 's clothing was removed and his body dragged to the fish tank across there.' He pointed again.
Fitzduane, fighting hard to suppress nausea, walked to the tank and looked through the glass.
The water inside was pink and streaked with long strands of crimson. In it, Adachi's naked body was suspended like some giant medical specimen in a container. Entrails drifted from it. As Fitzduane watched, the body moved slightly in the current of the oxygenating system.
It was without question one of the most horrific sights he had seen in his life. It was the stuff of the worst nightmares, and it was real.
This man had been his friend. He wanted to cry out loud.
Chifune stood beside him, her face immobile, and then she swayed. Fitzduane caught her as she crumpled. He held her, and she seemed to regain strength. Her face was a mask.
Fitzduane, with Chifune at his side, waked back to where the Spider and Adachi's father stood. 'How do you know about the Eel?' he said.
The Spider made a gesture toward the farther recesses of the aquarium. 'We found the Eel back there,' he said, in a voice of barely controlled rage. 'One of my officers knew he was an informant. He had been shot once in the head. No evisceration, no removal of clothes, no fish tank. That charade was reserved for the superintendent. The informant, having lured Adachi- san to his death, was merely executed. He had outlived his usefulness.'
'Why was Adachi- san stripped?' said Fitzduane, and then answered his own question. 'They were looking for something. The question is – did they find it?'
'I have already ordered the superintendent- san 's apartment sealed,' said the Spider. He looked at Chifune. 'Tanabu- san, I would appreciate it if you would search it first. You knew him well.'
Chifune nodded in acknowledgment, and then the Spider indicated that Fitzduane should go too. Help her, help us, the Spider's eyes pleaded.
Aware that time was critical, they made it to Adachi's apartment in less than twenty minutes. There was a police guard on the door when they arrived, but as soon as they ascended the stairs and entered Adachi's living room, they knew they were too late.
The apartment had been methodically ripped apart. The systematic nature of the destruction made it seem, for some reason, even more distressing. This was not the casual vandalism of a burglar. This was the cold-blooded clinical dissection of their victim's home.
Walls and ceilings had been opened up and the wood and plaster swept into tidy piles. All the furniture had been taken apart and the pieces stacked. The floor had been raised. Electronic equipment had been taken apart. All bedding and clothing had been slashed open and cut up and then stacked.
Chifune surveyed the damage as if mesmerized, then suddenly darted into the bedroom. 'I know where,' she said. 'I know what he would have done.'
Fitzduane followed her slowly into the bedroom, respectful of the fact that he was an intruder, but also wanting to give support. In truth, he could have done with a friendly shoulder himself.
The implacability of these people was terrifying. Always they seemed to be one step ahead. Steadily, their pursuers, despite all their resources, were being whittled down. One of the most powerful men in Japan had been murdered and the bloody trail of death never seemed to stop. Their opponents were people who considered themselves above the rule of law. Adachi, a senior officer of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department, had been slain with contempt. No one was safe.
Chifune gave a cry of anguish and then fell to her knees, her hands scrabbling for something. Pieces of multicolored plastic were thrown up on the bed and then she started to arrange them, crying softly all the while. The shape of a parrot emerged, and then Fitzduane could see that it was a clock. A rather ugly clock.
Chifune looked up at him and gestured wordlessly at the pieces of the clock, and Fitzduane understood. The attackers had got everything. Whatever was hidden in the parrot was long gone. Every facet of Adachi's life seemed to have been ravaged. He had been killed, stripped, eviscerated as if in an abattoir, and then his home and his personal possessions had been destroyed. He had not just been killed. He was being erased. His killers were without pity, arrogant beyond belief.
Fitzduane took Chifune in his arms and held her. With her defenses down, she felt slight and vulnerable. At first she just pressed against him, seeking reassurance from the warmth of his body, and then she started to shake and sob, and then terrible anguished cries came out of her.
Fitzduane held her and stroked her, and long minutes passed and then it was over. She pulled away and then kissed him on the forehead and went into the bathroom to wipe her eyes.
The Spider and Yoshokawa stood in the living room when Fitzduane came out. Clearly they had been there for a little time. Both wore expressions of concern and grief.
'Tanabu- san?' said the Spider.
'She'll be…' Fitzduane started to say, and then realized that he did not know what to add except platitudes. This was a wound that ran very deep. Chifune was as resilient as anyone he had ever met, but this was something, he felt, against which she had no defenses. This was the death of someone she had loved. She would not recover from this loss easily. Nor was it something she would ever forget.
Chifune emerged from the bathroom, her face washed and her composure restored, and only spots of water on her blouse betraying her recent outburst.
The four stood there in the wrecked room and there was an awkward silence, and then the Spider started to speak. Fitzduane held up his hand for silence. In it was a plaster-covered, miniature black rectangle with a hair-thin wire protruding from it.
The Spider, puzzled for a moment, put on his reading glasses and took the small object and examined it more closely. Almost immediately, he gave a nod of comprehension.
They left the bugged apartment and by mutual agreement headed immediately to police headquarters. It was now after four in the morning, and the streets of Tokyo were as quiet as they ever get. It started to rain, and that added to the somber mood.
Chifune stared straight ahead as Fitzduane drove, but her hand rested on his thigh, not in a sexual gesture, but merely as if to seek reassurance. From time to time, she shivered. Fitzduane glanced at her with concern, debating whether he should stop the car and put his jacket around her, but the journey was short and soon she would be in warmth again.
