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14 The Samurai of Jackson Street II

Katusuaijin for forty years An Ah Hokkaido in search of woodblock prints from the Edo period, had come into Katusumi’s father’s workshop, seen the boy’s prints, and offered to bring Okata to San Francisco to create prints for his gallery on Jackson Street The printmaker had lived in this same basement apartment since He’d once had a wife, Yuriko, but she had been killed in front of him on the street when he enty-three, so now he lived alone

The apartrasstools, a two-burner stove, an electric kettle, his swords, a futon, three sets of clothes, an old phonograph, and now, a burned-up white wo else, no ht make a series of prints of her-her blackened, skeletal form posed about the apartht He walked up to Chinatown and bought a bouquet of red tulips and put them on the futon beside her, but even with the added color and design ele his futon smell like burned hair

Okata was not used to company, and he wasn’t sure how to keep up his end of the conversation He had once made friends with two rats who came out of a hole in the brick wall He had talked to the any friends, but they hadn’t listened and he was forced to ured they didn’t speak Japanese

To be fair, however, she wasn’t doing very well holding up her side of the conversation, either-lying there like a bog person dipped in creosote, her ony He sat on a stool next to the futon with his sketch pad and a pencil and began to sketch her for a print He had very reat cape of red curls that streamed out behind her when he’d seen her on the street, and he was sorry that all but a few strands had burned away in the sun A shame Perhaps he could draw the red curls in anyway Make them swirl around the blackened rictus like one of Hokusai’s waves

He knehat she was, of course He was still healing from his encounter with the va to fill in the details, especially as her fangs were pointing pro and sharp to be those of a nores with sketches, experie he found that a sadness had overcome him that he could not chase aith the

Katusumi retrieved his wakizashi short sword from the stand on his work table, unsheathed it, and knelt by the futon He bowed deeply, then put the point of the sword on the pad of his left thumb and cut He held his thumb over her open mouth and the dark blood dripped over her teeth and lips

Would she be like the cats? Savage? A ht hand, should a demon awake But if he’d been able to raise his beloved Yuriko, even as a demon, wouldn’t he have? All the years that had passed, kendo training, drawing, carving,the streets unafraid, alone, hadn’t they all been about that? Aboutwithout her?

When the burned-up girl jerked with a great, rasping intake of breath, cinders cracked off her ribs and peppered the yellow futon and water began to flow from the swordsman’s eyes

RIVERA AND CAVUTO

Marvin the cadaver dog took them to the Wine Country There they found Bu a Du Marvin pawed the Dumpster, and tried to stay on task while the Boston terrier sniffed his junk and the golden retriever looked around, a little embarrassed

Nick Cavuto held the lid, ready to lift it "Maybe we should call the Wong kid and see if our sunlight jackets are done, then open it"

"It’s daylight," said Rivera "Even if there are, uh, creatures in there, they’ll be i the word "vampires" out loud "Marvin says there’s a body in there, we need to look"

Cavuto shrugged, lifted the lid of the Dumpster and braced himself for a wave of rotten meat smell, but there was none

"Empty"

Bummer barked Marvin pawed at the side of the Du for, "Duh Look behind it"

Rivera looked in Other than a couple of broken wine bottles and the rice part of a taco co in the Dunal he had been trained to give when he’d found a corpse

"Maybe we should give Marvin a biscuit to reset hi," said Rivera

"No corpse, no biscuit, that’s the rule," said Cavuto "We all have to live by it"

At the mention of a biscuit both Bu, sat, looked dutiful and contrite, and gave Rivera the "I need and deeply deserve a biscuit" look Frustrated hat biscuit whores his cohorts were, Lazarus went to the side of the Du the space between it and the wall, then tried to stuff his ed, pulled on a pair of forloves from his jacket pocket, and pulled the cement blocks from under the Dumpster’s wheels Rivera watched in horror as the realization hit that he was probably going to get Dumpster schmutz, or worse, on his expensive Italian suit

"Man up, Rivera," Cavuto said "There’s police work to be done"

"Shouldn’t we call some uniforms in to do it? I mean, we’re detectives"

Cavuto stood up and looked at his partner "You really believe the uys hand to hand, blows up the secret lair, gets set on fire, then escapes under water and his tux doesn’t even get wrinkled, don’t you?"

"You can’t just buy one of those off the rack," Rivera said "It’s a high-tech fabric"

"Just give , would you?"

Once the Dus piled in front of the boarded-up , Marvin doing his highly trained, "There’s a dead guy in here, givelike he was announcing the big sale event down at Yap-, doleful howl

"Probably in there," said Cavuto

"Ya think?" said Rivera

Cavuto was able to work his fingers between the sheet of plywood and theframe and pulled it out Before he could even set it aside Buh theinto the darkness Lazarus pawed the sill, then leapt after his co, backed away, then ruffed twice and tossed his head, which translated to, "No, I’ive me my biscuit I’ll be over here-well, would you look at that-those balls definitely need soo on without uish as many different odors as the hue of sixteen ie brain had aname to those scents and he processed what he smelled as: dead cats, many, dead humans, many, dead rats, uy who needs a shower; none of which would have given him pause The smell that he couldn’t file, that he didn’t have a response for, that stopped him at the as a new one: dead, but not dead Undead It was scary, and licking his balls calmed him and kept his mind off the biscuit that they owed hiht around the room The basement appeared empty but for piles of debris and a thick layer of dust and ash over the floor, textured with the paw prints of hundreds of cats He could see the e of the flashlight’s bea at a metal door

"We’ll need the crowbar out of the car," said Rivera

"You’re going in there?" asked Cavuto "In that suit?"

Rivera nodded "There’s so down there, one of us has to"

"You’re a goddamn hero, Rivera, that’s what you are A real, dyed in the worsted wool and silk blend hero"