Read Online Disciple of the Wind by Steve Bein - Free Book Online

stage after the ticketing counter. Thousands of people on dozens of flights, all lining up nice and neat.”
    Kusama puffed on his cigarette. “You’re saying detonating the bomb outside the security gate sent a message. It says there’s no security at all.”
    “That’s right, sir.”
    “Mm-hm. And why couldn’t Jemaah Islamiyah or al-Qaeda send the same message?”
    “They could, but they didn’t. You said that you’ve announced they claimed responsibility, not that they did . They haven’t, have they, sir? You said that just to appease those reporters.”
    Sakakibara growled like a bear. “Frodo, do yourself a favor—”
    “It’s all right, Lieutenant.” Kusama waved him off. “Sergeant Oshiro, you of all people ought to understand why I haven’t mentioned Joko Daishi to the press. Tell me, did you approve of it when I did the same thing with the Divine Wind’s subway bombing?”
    “Yes, sir.” Mariko hoped all the dust caked to her face would keep him from seeing her blush.
    “Yet you were the only one to suffer the consequences. Why approve of denying the Divine Wind’s involvement in that case but disapprove of it here?”
    “Because the subway story could be contained. This one can’t. It’s too big, sir, and when the truth leaks out, Joko Daishi will say the people can’t trust their police department. His goal is to erode the pillars of our society. We’re one of those pillars, sir. If we compromise ourselves, we make ourselves an easy meal.”
    That got Kusama’s hackles up. He stepped up in her face, and since he was a good fifteen centimeters taller than she was, when he locked eyes with her he was staring down at her. “You will not question my loyalty to the TMPD.” He waved his hand in her face as he spoke, jabbing her sergeant’s badge at her like an angry schoolmaster’s ruler.
    Mariko cast her gaze to the floor. “Terribly sorry, sir. That wasn’t my intent. It’s just—”
    “Frodo, goddamn it, keep your mouth shut.”
    “I’ll have her speak her mind, Lieutenant.” Kusama didn’t bother looking in Sakakibara’s direction; he kept his eyes fixed on Mariko.She could feel him staring holes into her head. “Sergeant, I don’t care for subordinates questioning my judgment, still less when they do it in front of other officers, and especially when they don’t provide a single scrap of evidence to back up their claims. Why should I believe—no, why should I even entertain the notion that your beloved Joko Daishi is responsible for this attack?”
    “Occam’s razor and sheer optimism, sir.” Mariko swallowed. “We released a terrorist mastermind from prison this morning. A few hours later, the bombs went off. So either this is Joko Daishi’s work or else we’ve got two mad bombers running around Tokyo, and no leads on either one of them.”
    “It’s a little too convenient, isn’t it? You’re obsessed with this man. You are by your own assessment our best expert on him.”
    “Not just me, sir. Me and Han. Um, Watanabe, sir.”
    “Just so. And lo and behold, you and Officer Watanabe come to me looking to get off my shit list by claiming it was your guy who orchestrated this attack. That doesn’t sound contrived to you?”
    “Sir, we let him go. Against my advisement. Because I knew something like this would happen. If it’s contrived, it sure as hell wasn’t contrived by me.”
    “That’s enough!” Kusama’s cigarette breath hit her in the face. “Is respect a foreign concept to you? Do you even listen to the words coming out of your mouth? I’ve got to hand it to you, Detective: I never thought I’d demote one of my sergeants twice in twenty-four hours.”
    He presented her sergeant’s pin to her between his thumb and forefinger, gave her a good last look at it, then dropped it on the floor and mashed it with his shoe. “Lieutenant Sakakibara, you’re authorized to restore Officer Watanabe to his status as a detective. Detective Oshiro, on the