Ogikubo Izakaya "Sugi no Ki" ~The Defeated's Revenge Score~ - The Price of Betrayal

The interrogation room smelled of old concrete. Suginami Branch, Metropolitan Police Department——a ten-minute walk from Ogikubo Station, a reinforced concrete three-story building next to the ward office. Special security units had been dispatched from headquarters for Olympic security, and the entire building carried a heavier atmosphere than usual. At eight in the morning, Seiichi sat in a chair in that interrogation room. Sitting across the desk was a man in his fifties. Black-rimmed glasses, black hair arranged with bureaucratic precision, a flat voice drained of emotion. A Defeated Nation Citizen Administrator——an internal affairs ministry position that supervised those from former enemy nations under the Resident Enemy Alien Control Law, enacted in 1951——introducing himself as Hotta. "Jack O'Brien. Antiquarian bookstore owner in Kabukicho, Shinjuku. A resident foreign national from the former United States. We have witness testimony that you conducted monetary transactions with this man on multiple occasions" Hotta spread a stack of documents across the desk. The sound of turning pages echoed in the quiet room. Seiichi did not answer. His gaze fell on the documents as he organized information internally. It was Kuroda. That antique dealer in Ginza had used the information-reporting channel to the administrator. He had reported Seiichi's trip to Shinjuku and contact with Jack as false illegal dealings. "Furthermore, we have confirmed records of contact with an intermediary for enemy aliens in Shinjuku's black market" "I don't recall that" "We have multiple witness testimonies" "Tell me the witnesses' names" "I cannot disclose that" He stated it flatly, emotionlessly, cutting off any opening for rebuttal from the start. Seiichi's fist slowly clenched on his lap. Hotta lowered his eyes to the documents and continued. "If you are determined to be an accomplice under the Resident Enemy Alien Control Law, even civilians become investigation subjects. If similar conduct is confirmed again, detention procedures will commence" Then he slid a single sheet of paper across the desk. A written pledge. "Sign it" Seiichi took the pen. How many hours had passed since this interrogation began? The light outside had changed. It must be past noon. Throughout this half-day, a premonition that something was happening to Jack had caught at the edge of his mind. He couldn't shake it no matter how hard he tried. As he signed the pledge, Seiichi was thinking. Kuroda's trap was complete. From now on, every time Seiichi made contact with a foreigner, a pretext for detention would be created. His movements had been sealed. Socially. "That's all. You're free to go" Released in the evening. When he stepped out of the branch office, October's cold air hit his face. The rib pain from last night's beating asserted itself dully with each deep breath. His legs wanted to run. His body wouldn't allow it. ＊ One evening edition lay in the mailbox of Sugi no Ki. He pulled it out. A folded slip of paper was wedged between the pages. He opened it. It was Jack's handwriting. English cursive script, just three words written briefly. 　Come tonight. Seiichi stood in the dark alley, the paper gripped in his hand. He reached for his jacket. "Sugiyama-san" A voice came from outside the alley. Iwase Masaru——a man from the detective division, someone Seiichi had known since his detective days. Forty-five years old, a man accustomed to a tired face, stood at the alley entrance. He held his hat in his hand. It was removed. The moment Seiichi saw that figure, something stopped inside him. "Jack O'Brien was discovered this evening" His voice was low. "In the back of the used bookstore in Shinjuku. Bound to a chair" Seiichi did not move. "Three fingers on his right hand were broken at the base. All his fingernails were torn off. His throat was cut once with something sharp" Facts accumulated from Iwase's mouth. Seiichi had stopped listening to the words partway through. Torture followed by execution. He had endured to protect information, and in the end, he was killed. Seiichi returned to the shop. He lowered the noren curtain. He turned on just one light. He sat at the far end of the counter. He did not pour any alcohol. For a while, he did not move. Then he looked at the seat next to him. The seat at the end of the counter where Jack had always sat. The place where that blunt man had relaxed his shoulders slightly while tilting a glass of shochu. The muddy-colored eyes behind his glasses that sometimes reluctant to answer Seiichi's questions, yet ultimately spoke something. Seiichi covered his face with both hands. No sound came out. He did not let it. No one was in the shop. No one could hear. Yet he silenced his voice and wept for a long time. After he finished weeping, he raised his face. On the floor, the remains of an unpacked toolbox lay scattered. A photograph of his wife and daughter sat on a blood-stained board. Last night's photograph. Last night too, he had failed to protect them. That time too, he had failed to protect them. Without words, only that sensation sank deep in his chest. Jack was dead. But he was still here. There was still something remaining. The next morning, Seiichi headed to Shinjuku. ＊ Iwase had told him in advance. The crime scene would be unsealed for only a few hours in the morning. Bookhouse O'Brien——twelve minutes on foot from the east exit of Shinjuku Station, first floor of a mixed-use building on the outskirts of Kabukicho. Behind grimy glass, stacked foreign books formed walls. He entered the back office. There was a stain on the floor. A dark brown stain, dried. The marks of chair legs were on the floorboards. A single cut end of rope lay in the shadow of a shelf. Seiichi looked at it for one second, then averted his gaze. Jack had not spoken. If he had, it would have ended before the torture. Seiichi began moving the bookshelves one row at a time. First row, second row——he pulled the third shelf away from the wall. In the gap, there was an envelope. Attached to the back panel with a magnet. Jack's habit. He opened the envelope. Inside was a single memo. English scrawl and what appeared to be a series of coordinates. Seiichi did not immediately understand the meaning of the coordinates. But the moment he saw the German at the end, his fingers stopped. 　Vergiss nicht. Do not forget. The same words written in the first envelope that arrived from Heinrich. And below that, another sentence in English continued. 　The document is NOT in the stadium. It's where the old man bleeds. Seiichi folded the paper and put it in his breast pocket. Jack had denied writing Vergiss nicht in the fourth episode——it was a message directed at Heinrich, not meant for Seiichi to read. Which meant Jack knew that Heinrich had a daughter as a hostage. Why would a former CIA operative know the circumstances of an elderly former German Wehrmacht intelligence officer and leave a message in German? That mystery lodged in Seiichi's head and would not come out. ＊ The Azabu residential district was quiet. The second floor of an old Western-style mansion in this area with many German residents——Mueller Heinrich's temporary residence. Seiichi climbed the stairs and knocked on the door. The door opened immediately. Heinrich stood there. Gray-streaked white hair neatly combed back, black-gloved hands gripping the doorknob. Sharp gray eyes with an upward slant read Seiichi's face in an instant. Without a word, he ushered him inside. German books arranged in order and antiques. Through the window, a small German chapel——St. Matthias Chapel——its cross visible outside. Seiichi placed the memo on the desk. "The document is not in the stadium. It's where the old man bleeds——are you the old man?" Heinrich looked out the window once while standing. Then, slowly, he lowered himself into a chair. Aged hands clasped on his lap. For the first time, those hands trembled. A long silence flowed. The cross of the chapel outside stood quietly against the October sky. "……My daughter is alive" His voice was low, wrung out. Seiichi did not move. "Elsa has been held captive for three years by the New Liberty Council——an unrecognized government created by survivors of the former United States government in northern Canada after America's collapse in 1949. I was told that if I recovered the ring, extracted the secret documents from the safe, and delivered them to the Council, my daughter would be released" The fingers in his gloves clasped even more tightly on his lap. "From the beginning, I visited Sugi no Ki to use you. Behind the request to recover the ring, there was a calculation to use your drive and connections as a tool to deliver the documents to the Council. Danke——no, I have no right to speak of gratitude" Seiichi's fist quietly gripped the edge of the desk. There was anger. Certainly there was anger. But at the same time, something else was in his chest. The weight of an old man nearly seventy, held hostage with his daughter for three years. The weight of surviving war, lurking in a corner of Tokyo as a remnant of a defeated nation, yet still moving to protect only his daughter's life. Seiichi understood that weight. He did not want to understand it, but he did. Tears glistened in Heinrich's eyes. "I have nothing left to protect but my daughter" After a long silence, Seiichi stood up. He left the room without a word, leaving the memo on the desk. ＊ He walked through the Azabu night streets. Anger and a sense of being torn apart by understanding existed simultaneously in Seiichi's chest. Which was right and which was wrong? There was no answer. He could not find one. Jack was dead. Misako was being threatened. His name was on the administrator's list, and every contact with a foreigner would provide a pretext for detention. Kuroda held the ring and moved as the Tokyo window for the Council. And from the beginning, he had been used by Heinrich. Six days remained until the Olympic opening ceremony. Late at night, he returned to Sugi no Ki. He turned on just the minimum lights in the shop. He stood alone inside the counter. He poured just one glass of cold alcohol. The hand holding the glass trembled. On the floor, the contents of the unpacked toolbox lay scattered from last night. The photograph of his wife and daughter sat on the board. Seiichi looked at that photograph. It had been like this then too. In the chaos of the postwar period, the night when rioters took his wife and young daughter from him. That night too, he had not made it in time. That night too, he had stood alone. He placed the glass on the desk without drinking it and closed his eyes. But. The memo in his breast pocket touched his fingertips. 　Vergiss nicht. Words that Jack had protected with his life, written in German. Why had a former CIA operative used German and known Heinrich's circumstances? Where did the document lie if not in the stadium, but where the old man bleeds? These two mysteries were the only thread Seiichi now possessed. His hands trembled still. Yet the paper in his breast pocket was certainly there.

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Episode 5

Name: Ogikubo Izakaya "Sugi no Ki" ~The Defeated's Revenge Score~
Author: Novelia

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