Postby Tetsuwan Penguin » 7 years ago
Higeoyaji didn't like his seat assignment anymore than the person seated next to him. The flight on the narrow bodied aircraft had been overbooked, and when he made it to the gate, he had been informed that his chosen seat assignment had been given to someone else at the last minute. Normally he would have raised a stink, but it appeared that his prized seat assignment had been given to a young woman who was flying with two young children, and needed three adjacent seat assignments at the last minute. So, he reluctantly accepted what had been given to him. It was his first flight on an American 'puddle jumper'. He'd been visiting a relative in San Francisco, and was now taking this shorter flight to Sacramento as a favor to his uncle. Higeoyaji hoped that his limited knowledge of the American legal system would be sufficient to clear up the older man's small problem.
Shunsaku Ban, made his way to the back of the aircraft and then squeezed into the end of the row. He hated the window seat, especially when the middle seat was occupied by an overweight person, thereby squeezing him between a wall and a whale. He noticed that a well dressed, mildly plump, middle aged woman had part of her anatomy bonking out into the isle from the outside seat as she was being also being squeezed by 'Moby Dick'.
As he sat down, he attempted to put the armrest on his right side into the down position, but the gentleman in the middle seat objected. Would you mind if we just left this in the up position?, the 140 kg Asian occupant of the seat insisted.
Higeyaji who was already in a bad mood just slammed the arm rest into it's intended position. I believe that flight regulations require these be in the down position during takeoff, he growled. Besides, if you require more room for your excessive bulk, perhaps you should have paid for a second seat, rather than mooching some of the one that I paid good money for!, he added, giving the man a threatening glare.
Shunsaku Ban's neighbor returned the eye contact, and muttered under his breath, Most people find themselves regretting having make an enemy of me.
They say the same about me, Mustachio thought to himself. He took a quick glance at the fat man that was the cause of his rising blood pressure. He was somewhat embarrassed that a fellow countryman would misbehave himself in a foreign land, setting such a bad example for the Japanese people. He closed his eyes and tried to relax as the old DC-9 started its takeoff roll. The aircraft banked sharply as its wheels left the tarmac, and rolled towards the right. Higeoyaji felt himself float above the seat for a second, and then his butt was pressed downward into the cushions as the aircraft began to climb to cruising altitude. He tried to ignore being elbowed in his ribs by the passenger to his right, and he returned the favor the next time the pilot rolled the aircraft into a turn.
About a half hour later one of the flight attendants started to take refreshment orders, and the man to his right requested a couple of bourbons. Soon after the flight attendant delivered the miniature bottles of booze the occupant of the middle seat became quiet, perhaps he had been anesthetized by the liquor, Mustachio decided.
It seemed to Higeoyaji that they had no sooner reached level flight altitude that the aircraft had began to make its initial descent for landing. At least that's what his eardrums began to tell him. Sure enough, the pilot soon made the announcement that all in cabin service was suspended, and that all the passengers should return to their seas and buckle up for the landing. The amateur detective was quite happy to feel the landing gear bounce on the tarmac, and he soon found himself leaving the aircraft to make his way though the terminal towards the baggage claim facility.
Higeoyaji's only bag came sliding down the chute of the baggage claim machine, and he quickly snatched it from the conveyor belt. As he made his way towards the exit, a pair of policemen moved quickly to block his way. Would you please come with us? they politely, but firmly insisted.
Mustachio was escorted over to a side room where he noticed the woman who had occupied the outside seat of isle in his row. Is this the man? one of the cops asked her, pointing to Higeoyaji.
No, not him, the woman sighed. I think he was in the middle seat, and besides, I'm sure
the man who robbed me was much fatter!
You're sure about that?, the cop asked.
Yes, quite! the woman replied. She turned to Mustachio and quickly voiced, I'm sorry
sir, I told the police that I was robbed by a Japanese man wearing a hat, I didn't realize that my description was a little vague, besides, I might have been wrong and that fat man could have been Korean, you know, like Odd-Job?
Mustachio bowed politely towards the woman, That's quite all right, he replied in his best English, No harm done. And you were quite right, I'm embarrassed to say that disgusting individual was a bad example of one of my fellow countrymen. He was a resident of Tokyo in fact, just as I am.
You know the suspect? The second cop asked.
Never saw him before in my life, Higeoyaji replied, but as a long time Tokyoite, I can tell you for a fact that the man was a resident of our capital. You see, not all Japanese look alike to me.
Of course, the cop said, his face turning a little red.
If you like, perhaps I could be of some assistance, Mustachio suggested. I've assisted the local police back home with some detective work.
No we can handle this, the two cops replied, almost in stereo.
If you don't mind, the woman replied, I'd like him to help. In fact, I rather insist on it!
Higeoyaji smiled and bowed again towards the woman. Konnichiwa. Watashi no namae wa Shunsaku Ban desu. he said politely.
The woman seemed to understand the greeting, and replied, Pleased to meet you Mr. Ban. My name is Helen Banks.
Mustachio laughed and replied, Actually my surname is Shunasku, it's customary in my part of the world to state ones last name first.
Ah yes, I remember that now, Helen replied. If the police won't allow you to work with them to find the thief and my missing jewelry, then I'd like to hire you, Shunasku San.
Now comfortably seated in the back of a Rolls Royce automobile next to his client, Mustachio quickly realized that the woman was someone of either great importance, wealth, or likely both.
I usually fly first class, she began, But I suddenly found it rather urgent that I return to Sacramento as quickly as possible. I drove myself to the airport and bought a ticket on the very next direct flight out, on whatever airline had an open seat. I swear, I will never fly on that particular airline ever again!
I quite understand, the amateur detective agreed. I was one of the last to board, and I got a good look at both you and that excrement from my home city as I got to my seat. It was a rather large platinum brooch with several diamonds of several carrots each, plus a few emeralds and sapphires, wasn't it?, he asked. I noticed it was missing when I saw you again in the office with the police.
You're quite observant, Helen replied. That pin was left to me by my great-grandmother. I rarely go anywhere without it.
You know, I did have to brush by you as I sat down, I wouldn't have blamed you if you had suspected I had taken it, Mustachio said.
I was aware that it was still in my possession shortly after takeoff, she answered. I did not notice it being missing until I reached the baggage claim, so I don't know exactly when it was taken from my person. However, that fat individual was constantly bumping into me during the flight, he had ample opportunity to remove it.
The man didn't impress me as a jewel thief, Higeyaji explained, but I would not be surprised to learn that he is well connected.
You mean, like a member of the mob? Helen questioned.
Yes, a gangster, Mustachio agreed. I noticed a tong tattoo on his arm. Very common with the underworld in Japan.
The high powered automobile left the interstate and was now tooling down a well traveled two lane blacktop. Where are you taking me?, Higeyaji asked. I thought you had agreed to drop me off at my hotel.
You're not going to stay at that fleabag, she laughed. I insist on putting you up at my place. My driver will take you wherever you need to go. Once you have finished your own personal business, you can handle my case.
Domo Arigatōgozaimashita, Mustachio replied. However my uncle's little problem can wait. I'll look into your theft right away.
Kin Sankaku attempted to greet his host in Italian with a thick Japanese accent. The 'Don' accepted his guest, and motioned for him to enter the lavish estate house. Did you have a good flight? he asked.
Iie, Sankaku growled. The seats were too narrow, the plane too crowded, the liquor was watered down, and I had to sit next to a busybody from Tokyo. The only redeeming thing was a little trinket I obtained from the pompous bitch sitting next to me. He juggled a small platinum brooch in his right hand.
I was warned that you were a kleptomaniac, the 'Don' replied grabbing Sankaku around his throat with his large left hand. I hope that your little prank doesn't bring the police here, if it does you can count on being thrown under the bus!
Would you care for some tea, Helen asked.
Mustachio had just finished setting his suitcase down on the ottoman stool and had hung his suits up in the closet. Ms. Banks had set him up in a guest room, and insisted that he make himself right at home. Ryokucha o motomete, he heard himself say.
It's ready in the kitchen downstairs, she smiled, motioning for him to follow.
Shunsaku Ban recognized the aroma of the matcha tea at once. He picked up the cup and took a sip. Where did you get this?, he asked, It's excellent tea.
I've been to your country a few times as a tourist, Helen laughed, and I've become addicted to green tea, especially the finely ground matcha. I also learned how to ask for it.
The amateur detective finished his tea, and set the cup down. I'll need to call a policeman I know back home, he said. I think I know who that thief was, I'd like to look at a few mugshots on line.
Certainly, she said. Come with me into my office, I'll set you up on my computer.
Mustachio sat in front of the Mac Pro's superwide monitor, and worked the mouse with his right hand. He soon had a Skype session open and was placing a video call to the Metro City police station. After a few minutes the connection was confirmed, and Inspector Tawashi's face appeared in front of him.
Higeyaji, what brings your ugly face into my office?, the inspector asked.
Charming, as usual, inspector, Mustachio replied. I'm calling you from America, I have a favor to ask. A rather charming lady who I've had the pleasure of sharing an unpleasant flight with appears to have been robbed during the flight. The suspect rather unfortunately appears to be a fellow Tokyoite, probably a member of the underworld. He had a tong tattoo on his lower left arm, and was more than a bit overweight. The individual wears a distinctive bit of haberdashery, and eyeglasses to correct a myopic condition. I think I have probably seen him before, I'd like to access your mug files on the Tokyo mob.
Well you seem to have narrowed the selection down by a small amount, Tawashi smiled. I can narrow it down even further if our computer system can keep track of who isn't in the country at the moment.
I was hoping you'd say that, Mustachio replied.
Give me about an hour, the inspector said. I'll email you a link to the mugshot repository once I've filtered it.
Excellent!, the amateur detective answered. I owe you one.
Actually, if you can finger one of these scumbags, I'll be in your debt, especially if the Americans will lock him up for a few years.