Tokyo Espionage

Chapter 7

Chapter 7

The highway was sparsely populated during the night. I looked out of the window into the darkness, remembered Meisa alive, and dead. It felt like I had failed her. It was as if this was somehow my fault. My hand still trembled when I turned the key in the ignition: the police would come along the highway, it wasn’t safe.

I travelled the long road to Yokohama where I abandoned the Exige at the oceanfront. The police would be looking for it. I pressed my lips against the carbon fibre chassis before taking my phone out of my jacket, and tossing it into the water. Whoever had framed me had taken my liberty.

I walked, and when I got tired I sat down. It was the dead of night; there was nobody around to see me cry. I tried to get some sleep, but my guilt wouldn’t let me. I was thus uncomfortable, and cold. Not knowing what to do, I went to the train station and bought a ticket to anywhere. The top brass would be brought in to find Meisa’s murderer. It wouldn’t take them long to find me wherever I went.

***

The jarring of the train broke my sleep. I looked out with weary eyes to open farmland. Not long after, the announcement came for Hachioji, which seemed as good a place as any to get off.

Morning traffic plugged the streets. I walked around trying to find a motel for a few days. The police knew that I only had limited cash, and would search hostels and cheap motels first. I had no choice, so I took a bed in a 12-person room, shut my eyes, and got some sleep.

When I awoke I gave into grief because I had an affection for Meisa, and couldn’t believe that she was dead. Only the thought of my father’s own pain prevented me from doing something stupid. Sitting on my bed, I watched the door, and waited for the police to come.

***

For the first time in a week I left my bunk bed, and headed to the computers in the foyer where I checked news feeds. Most articles contained only sketchy details of the crime scene. I noted the mistakes. They described me, and explained that I was a prime suspect in the investigation. They said that I was a British national teaching English, and they could only guess as to motive, and means.

The reporter’s provided solid background information on who Meisa Kato was, and it made me realise just how little I knew her. I read over the articles assiduously: she was secretary of defence, and had been preoccupied with recent territorial claims by the Chinese; she left behind a husband, 64, a son and daughter aged 26 and 23 respectively. They were not much younger than I. The article also said that Meisa was the CEO of Fire Storm, a weapons manufacturer.

Sat in the decrepit hostel foyer it occurred to me that I could sit around on my bed, and wait to be found, or I could investigate this myself, find out who really killed her, and why. I might be captured, but it was more honourable to do so endeavouring to put this right, than hiding in a hole.

With renewed gusto I grasped a sheet of paper, and scribbled on it ‘leads.’ Then ‘Fire Storm – weapons manufacturer / Chinese air defence zone / Family – husband, son, daughter.’

At the station platform I took the train bound for Tokyo, wondering if it had changed in the short time that I had been away. 

Copyright © 2014 by Curtis Couch 

Thanks in advance for any votes/comments! It really helps the writers a lot.