The broken light held his attention for a brief second as he cast his gaze around the room. It was a strange thing to leave broken, this glass and wire contraption. The remains of the bulb crunched underfoot as he approached the scratched desk.
“Kudoh Yohji?” he asked.
“One and only,” the blond man tilted his hat and leant back on his chair. “What can I do for you?”
“I want you to find someone. I hear you’re good for that kind of thing.”
“Better than most of the chumps in this city, yeah. Anyone in particular?” the investigator smirked and lit a cigarette. “Smoke?”
“Only when I’m on fire.”
“Very droll,” Kudoh laughed easily.
“I want you to find my younger brother. He was kidnapped several years ago, and the police have him down as dead.”
Kudoh’s eyebrows disappeared under his hat. “Woah. Police business? I don’t do police business, kid.”
“I can pay handsomely.”
“I don’t doubt it.” Yohji gave the client along up-and-down look, taking in the expensive suit. “But I don’t take payment until completion, and if the police say the kid is dead...”
“How very moral of you,” the young man smirked. He tossed two photos onto the worn leather inlay of the desk. Yohji studied them closely. He wished he had that equipment you always saw on the cop shows, the machine that showed you what a person might look like ten years down the line. Sure, there was more than a faint chance that it was the same kid, but something still smelt funny. “You just happened to have a camera with you?”
“As a matter of fact, yes.”
“This really is police business, Takatori-san. I suggest you go to your uncle for help,” Yohji sighed and sat back. He couldn’t believe he was turning down what might be the biggest business he’d had since Asuka left him for that Kase guy.
Shock registered on the young man’s face. “How did you know?” he asked.
“Takatori Hirofumi, don’t you think you’re one of the most recognisable men in the country?” Yohji cocked an eyebrow at him. “Besides, this picture’s been in and out of the media more times than I’ve been in and out of women.”
The young man laughed shortly at that. “My father would not approve of what I am doing,” he said, leaning on the desk. “And that, I assure you, will not be in and out of the media.”
“I hear he’s running for president,” Yohji held his stare with the edge of a professional.
“I want you to find my baby brother,” Hirofumi said bluntly. “I know he is alive. Succeed, and you will be rich. Fail, and you will be dead.”
Yohji’s eyebrows disappeared beneath the brim of his hat. “I suppose there’s a time limit, in that case?” he managed.
Hirofumi stood up straight and seemed to consider this. “I don’t know much about these things. Of course, should he get wind of what you are doing he might flee. Maybe his kidnappers still have him, and might kill him.”
“I can’t make an estimate on how long it will take without knowing more about what is going on. I’ll also need a bit of cash to start investigations. You don’t get information on a wink and promise,” Yohji told the politician.
“My father has loaned me the use of his bodyguards. I shall assign one of them to work with you,” Hirofumi decided. “He can determine if you are not putting your all into this.”
“How long will you have these bodyguards?” Yohji asked.
“I don’t know,” Hirofumi smiled slowly. “In much the same way you don’t know how long it will take to find Mamoru. Let us say that if you haven’t found my brother by the time the guards are recalled, I will have you killed.”
Yohji swallowed. “Aren’t you concerned they will inform your father of what you are doing?”
“You don’t know much about politics, do you?” Hirofumi smirked. “I will send someone here tomorrow at Nine. Good Evening.”
The broken bulb crunched underfoot. Yohji stared at the doorway in the fading evening light. Who had claimed that being a Private Investigator was glamorous? Dashiell Hammet and Raymond Chandler owed him a hell of a lot.
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