The Hunter (31 page)

It looked like a shaggy gray cloud.

It was before dawn when headquarters radioed them the information and they found themselves racing from the stakeout in Akishima to the house in Nerima Ward.

"Are we sure it's Gale?" Takako asked Takizawa, frowning. She had no desire to leave the vicinity of the Kasahara house. This was no time to spend chasing a bum tip.

"Who knows. But the lady who called sounded convincing, so we have to check it out. She says the dog's neck and chest are covered with gore."

"With ... gore?"

"That's what she says. And come without sirens, please, to keep from disturbing the neighborhood. Of course, sirens or no sirens, the second that animal senses danger he's gonna make a run for it." Takizawa looked un-enthusiastic. But you couldn't ignore orders.

Takako had gotten on her frost-covered motorcycle and sped off for the address in Nerima Ward, near the Saitama border.

It was a fairly old residential neighborhood, with what might have originally been farmhouses. Most of the houses sat on large plots of land, and many of the trees in the gardens were conspicuously large. But would Gale pick a place like this to hide in? Doubtful, Takako watched as some forty riot police surrounded the house. A debate was underway as to whether they should wait for the members of the hunting association to arrive, or try to corner the animal first. The chief was trying to elicit information from the lady of the house. Suddenly, something gray came flying over the fence about as high as Takako's head and floated to the ground.

It's him!

Standing next to her motorcycle, she had chanced to be looking back unconcernedly when the creature flew noiselessly through the air. The riot police and other officers standing around didn't even cry out, it happened so fast, so quietly. Barely nine or ten feet ahead of her, Gale stood firmly on the asphalt road yet untouched by morning sun.

"Gale."

Takako said his name softly. Instantly the atmosphere around the animal underwent a slight shift. Long, pointy face, large ears. Legs longer than an ordinary dog's, dense fur. The thick, shaggy tail standing straight up in the air. And the eyes. Deep-set eyes, the likes of which Takako had seen only in photographs, now stared directly at her.

So this is Gale. The dog with wolf blood in his veins.

He was just as she had imagined he would be. The commanding presence, the dignity, the intelligence. She was swept by an impulse to go up to him. For a brief second, she forgot about the people he had attacked and killed, he conveyed neither the peculiarly woebegone look of a criminal, nor the murderous look of someone cornered, nor violence, nor malice, nor savagery, like a cloud hovering between mountains at dawn, Gale was simply there. He didn’t snarl. The calmness of his face bore no suggestion of anger or hate.

How could he be so calm? What was this aura of nobility that he exuded? Just as Takako started to waver, thinking it might indeed be possible to walk up to him, from behind her came the cry, "He jumped the wall!"

As if hit by a stone, Gale started running. He tore alongside the wall he had just sailed over, and headed off to the left. Only a moment later, when he was out of sight, did Takako come out of her trance and get on her bike. She had to go after him. Blood raced to her head. She gunned the engine and took off, accelerating a little too fast. Where he had headed left, she veered left. She was prepared to follow him to the ends of the earth—but he had vanished.

"Huh?"

He had rounded that corner only moments before. He couldn't be far. Now she was even more excited. For a while she kept going straight, trying to look on both sides as she rode. But like a sudden gust of wind or a gray phantom, the figure of the wolf-dog was nowhere to be seen.

"Find him! He may have gone back in the garden!"

When Takako reported having lost the animal, police fanned out over the neighborhood. Others poured back into the garden where he had been hiding for the last two days. Takako joined them.

A little old lady with a shawl around her shoulders was pacing nervously. She looked to be in her late seventies. Her thin, mostly white hair was loose and undone, her eyes were sunken, and she looked exhausted. Completely at a loss, she had been wandering among the investigators saying, "Excuse me!" Then, catching sight of Takako, the only one dressed differently from the others, she came mincing over. "Was that really the killer dog they've been talking about on the news?" she asked. "Is it still in the garden?"

"I don't know," said Takako. "They're checking now."

The old woman looked up at Takako in surprise. "Oh, my!" she exclaimed.

“Are you
a woman?"

Takako put on a smile and bowed her head, then inquired briefly about Gale.

The old woman recounted her story of discovering the animal in her garden. "But I have to say, it was an awfully quiet-looking thing. When I went up to it, it didn't bark or growl at all. Do you know what? It was actually shaking."

"Shaking?"

The old woman nodded once, her face wreathed in tiny wrinkles, and then pulled her shawl up around her nose to warm herself. "Shaking and shivering. So I thought it might be a cowardly dog, even though it was so big. The garden is huge, as you can see, and I've just been letting it go to rack and ruin. Really, I was thinking I would just let the poor thing stay. And then I heard about the dog on the news! Who could believe it was a terrible dog like that?"

Wolf-dogs were nervous around strangers, never warmed to anyone but their master. So even a little old lady was, from Gale's point of view, a total stranger.

It was Gale, it had to be.

And after flying by them like a burst of strong wind, he was gone. While the neighborhood search continued, the town woke up and traffic increased. In the end, Takako and the rest returned to headquarters empty-handed.

"At least we know he's in the city. He'll show up at Kasahara's house. It's just a matter of time. Nothing to do but continue the stakeout. Whatever happens, we want that wolf-dog captured alive. Understood?" Those were the words of Chief Wakita, his appeal to a group of tired, impatient detectives.

Gale's figure, which blended into the gray, pre-dawn sky, was imprinted on Takako's memory. She longed to see him again. To get closer to him. That longing would only grow stronger with time. She didn't need to be reminded by her bosses; however long it might take, she told herself, she would find that wolf-dog and bring him in.

But that night and the next, Gale did not show up in Akishima. Neither were detectives able to find Ogawa.

Among the chemicals taken from Ogawa's house, however, analysis was able to identify benzoyl peroxide in a twenty-five percent paste and in dry powder. This made it definite: Ogawa was their prime suspect.

But where the hell is he?

Day by day, frustration had grown. Investigators were haunted by the suspicion that they were too late, that Gale had already found him and done his worst. But smart though he might be, Gale was nothing but a wolf-dog. There was certainly no way that he could hide the body of someone he had mauled.

Takako continued to blame herself. She was furious. How could she have lost him? When Gale was in the garden of that old lady, they should have surrounded the place with more care, so that even if he did make a run for it, as long as they knew the direction he'd gone, they could be on his path. But they underestimated him. They might be professional man-hunters, but as dog-hunters they were rank amateurs.

For one thing, no one anticipated that the dog had such superb leaping ability, making fools of them by virtue of his uncommon lightness and supple grace. Of course, based on all he had done, they knew that the animal was anything but common, but the reality had far surpassed their imagination. Even for Takako, it was true. Gale had been far more beautiful, more wonderful, than she had envisioned. For one second, she had forgotten her assignment, had wanted nothing more than to gaze on at him, rapt. Perhaps that was the strange power of wolf-dogs. Like magic, they mesmerized people, locking their gazes and immobilizing them. Anyway, once they found either Gale or Ogawa, the other could not be far away. With something like a prayer that this was true, the search split in two, half the force looking for Gale, the other half looking for Ogawa.

"Kasahara insists that Gale will come back," reported Takizawa. "He says Gale will use that house as home base, and will stop by once every few days to see if Kasahara is there."

There was nothing to do but take Kasahara at his word. And to sit and watch and wait. An endurance contest between the wolf-dog and the police was underway.

This was the fifth night since they had begun staking out the house, a Monday. Today Takizawa was riding shotgun. Squirming uncomfortably in the cramped car, he declared peevishly, "The thing about a stakeout, it's murder on your back."

"You can say that again," said Imazeki, in the driver's seat. "When I was in my thirties, I slipped a disk, and my back's bothered me ever since."

"A slipped disk, ugh. Happened to me, too."

As far as Takako could tell, when these new partners were together they talked about nothing but their health problems, didn't matter who spoke first. Listening, Takako learned for the first time that the man she once beat the pavement with suffered from corns and athlete's foot, that five years ago he had a stomach ulcer, and that any time now he expected the symptoms of hay fever to set in.

"Maybe you should try wearing a corset for that back," suggested Imazeki.

"Not with a paunch like this. Too painful."

God, what a depressing conversation. But on a stakeout, when they had to keep their eyes peeled, there wasn't much else to do. To keep from getting bored, to keep awake, it was better to talk about anything than to sit silent. In any case, she could be grateful that for a stakeout lasting days on end like this, she didn't have to be alone with Takizawa. What blessed relief. Here was a whole new reason to be glad she was a lizard.

On the other hand, if the two of them had had to do this on their own, that might have been fun in its own way. As long as he didn't make uncalled-for remarks.

It was now after 2:00 a.m. The darkness was deepening, the temperature dropping. Takako sighed quietly and looked vacantly out the window of their unmarked police car. On the side of the car was her red motorcycle, completely tuned, languishing alone again. She found the CB400 Super Four a comfortable machine—easy to handle, quick in response. It was of classic racing style with a smooth engine, and its power, the sense of control she had while riding it, was huge. It lacked a strong personality and was often used as a training vehicle for novice riders, but it was good for both short hops and long-distance rides.

Rather than sit here listening to these men talk about their backaches and neuralgia, she wished she was out riding it. But until Gale appeared, she was trapped. Perhaps he wouldn't show tonight either. The cold wouldn't likely bother him, but what was he doing for food? Just as these thoughts were going through her mind, suddenly a voice came over the radio.

"West Tachikawa 47 calling MP 22."

MP 22. The call sign for the microbus that the command officer was in.

"West Tachikawa 47, come in."

"We have spotted a large dog. The location is the confluence of the Tama River and the Aki River. The dog is walking downstream in the river bed. Over."

Automatically, she picked up her helmet. Sensing the accelerated beating of her heart, she held her breath and listened.

"This is MP 22. We read you. Can you make out any characteristics of the dog? Over."

"It's dark, so it's hard to see, but it's a fairly big animal with a pointed muzzle and long legs. It has a smooth gait. It's moving at a pretty fast clip. Over."

It was Gale. Takako zipped up the blouson she was wearing over her leather vest, and put her gloves on.

Takizawa turned to look at her. "You going?"

"I'll listen to the rest of the dispatch through the radio on the bike. I want to warm up the engine."

Takizawa signaled approval with his eyes, as Imazeki secured his seat belt, Takako quickly got out of the car, put on her helmet, and strode over to her side. Her warm breath steamed up the shield in an instant. The bike had been sitting here since early evening, and the engine would be cold. Swiftly inserted the key, pulled out the choke and pushed the ignition button, Having checked that the engine fired up with a slightly higher sound than normal, Takako switched on the wireless radio on the bike.

"MP 39 calling MP 22."

"MP 39, go ahead."

"Got him with the infrared camera. He's walking down the riverbed. His body measures about five feet three inches. The tail is long and straight, and the ears are huge. He's in front of Ryugahara Athletic Ground. Over."

“You mean the south side of the riverbed? Over."

“Yes. He's walking on the Hachioji side."

“Copy that, over and out. MP 22 to all units. We have located the wolf-dog. Stand by."

The bus carrying Captain Watanuki was stationed closest to the Kasahara.

“MI 17 to MP 22."

“MP 22 here, what is it?"

Subject has just passed Haijima Suidobashi. He has stopped. He's looking around. Now he's going across. He's crossing the river, heading your way."

“West Tachikawa 3 to MP 22. We have a visual on the animal. Looks like e all right. Over."

“MP 22, copy that. Don't lose sight of him whatever you do. Don't let him see you!"

Her heart beating fast, Takako climbed on the 400 Four and pushed the choke back in. With the engine idling smoothly, she refastened the strap on helmet. Then she brought the tiny microphone attached to her helmet e to her mouth.

"MP 22 calling MP 447."

Takako's heart leaped. MP 447. That was the call sign for the wireless on her bike.

"This is MP 447, go ahead."

"Are you ready?"

Pressing the transmission button on her handle grip, Takako answered, "MP 447. Ready. Over." Her voice was shaking a bit, but that was due to the cold. Next the command vehicle's radio called Takizawa's vehicle and confirmed that they were ready to follow Takako.

"West Tachikawa 10, copy that."

Takizawa's voice came through the small speaker embedded in her helmet. For a change, he spoke crisply.

"MI 16 to MP 22. Animal is crossing the riverbed and heading for the end of the boardwalk."

"MP 86 to MP 22. The hunting association is not going to be ready in time. If he leaves the riverbed now, we'll lose this chance."

"MP 22 calling MP 86. Nothing we can do about it. Stay on him. Let him go where he wants, as far as feasible. Don't forget, he may know where Ogawa is. Over and out."

He was coming. Finally, Gale was on his way here. This time she wouldn't let him get away. Takako smoothed on her gloves once more and listened intently to the barrage of messages. Somewhere inside, she didn't want Gale to come. Part of her wanted to tell him, Now's your chance, run! But when she thought of everything that led to this moment, the people who were killed—even if they were slime—she knew it was sheer sentimentality. I've paid my own price for this, she thought. My skin is chapped, I'm chilled to the bone, I can't ever go home, I can't even visit my sister in the hospital, I had to hear that garbage from my mother.

"MP 86 to MP 22. We have a visual, too. Animal is walking by the Haijima High School athletic field, heading to the middle school next door. He really is huge. Over."

Did Gale sense anything? Did the scent of Emiko's pajamas, placed in front of the ruined house as a lure, carry to him, wherever he was?

Come on out where I can see you. This time I'm running with you all the way.

She revved up the engine a little. The needle on the right meter quivered slightly. At 2:30 a.m., the area was dead quiet.

"MP 22 calling MP 447 and West Tachikawa 10. Proceed to the park entrance and stand by."

Right. She grasped the clutch lever and stepped on the gear pedal. The sensation of being in low gear went from the soles of her boots to the entire machine. She put on her turn signal, twisted the throttle a bit, and at the same time slowly opened her left hand little by little. With a low hum, the 400 Four began to slide out. Soon she saw the headlights of the car following in her rearview mirror.

"MP 447 to MP 22. I'm in position, over."

"MP 86 to MP 22. Animal is heading from the middle school to Okutama Kaido Avenue. Over."

"MP 22 to MP 447. He should come into sight any time now. Follow him, but keep your distance. Over!"

The wireless transmission was loud and clear. Still gripping the clutch, Takako held her breath. The beam of her headlight cut straight into the darkness. She thought of sports competitions she participated in as a child: the tension just before a race as starting time drew near; the sound of the pistol, the cheers, the music blaring from speakers. But in the moment of maximum tension just before the starting signal, her ears would hear nothing at all. This was exactly like that. She had never been this tense even at a competition among motorcycle policemen.

"MP 14 to MP 22. Animal has crossed the road. He's just in front of the Daishi bus stop."

"MP 8 to MP 22. Gale is in sight!"

It happened just after that: a creature leaped into the beam of her headlight. Swift and soundless, it appeared with sudden nimbleness. Takako gasped in admiration at the sight. Finally face to face, again.

I'm not letting you get away this time.

His eyes shone green. A big, black nose. The fur on the muzzle and around he eyes was white, surrounded by black. From the back of the ears and around the neck, a short silver mane framed the head. The stance—head lung below the shoulders, forelegs slightly apart—was not that of a dog, but of a wolf. His figure was perfectly still, seeming to absorb the flow of time. No murderous intent, no hostility. Only the eyes shone with fierce light.

This was the creature that killed three people. The dog that was on the hunt for Ogawa, remembering Kasahara and Emiko. Yet strangely, Takako felt no fear. Once again she felt an impulse to dismount and go up to him—but at that very moment, Gale, who had until then remained motionless, whirled and gaped. His motion was caught not in the beam from her motorcycle, but in the headlights of Takizawa's car behind her. Reflexively, she rotated the throttle.

"MP 447 to MP 22."

"MP 447, go ahead."

"I'm with Gale. I'm following him. Over."

By the time she finished speaking, Gale had rounded a curve fifty yards ahead. Takako shot forward, after him. When she made the turn, she could see Gale running, farther ahead than before. What incredible speed! He ran with a light, flowing motion, almost as if gliding on the surface of a cloud.

"West Tachikawa 10 to MP 447."

"MP 447, Otomichi here. What is it?"

"I don't know where Gale is going to turn off. I want you to report where you are. Over."

"Got it."

"We're right behind you. Don't worry."

With Takizawa's loud, hoarse voice sounding in her ear, Takako sped after Gale. In her rearview mirror she could see the lights of Takizawa's car. There was no siren, but she could see its flashing red light.

Gale, this is the opposite direction from your house. Is that OK? Didn't you catch the scent of Emiko, the woman you love?

But Gale ran on without a backward glance. His long tail streamed out behind him, waving slightly, drifting in the wind. His ears lay slightly back. His stride vastly larger than any dog's could be, his running fluid and smooth. Hitting Route 16, he headed south without hesitation. Takako wove between the scant cars, went through a red light, and turned right at a no-turn corner. Gale was running in the lane for oncoming traffic. Even if traffic was light, if he turned right again, it would be difficult for her to follow. She could hear Takizawa informing the command car of their position.