its traffic cameras from a company called Mobotix. TMPD sourced the same company for its surveillance cameras. MX10-4-137-29 was the location of one particular Mobotix traffic cam. What Mariko held in her hands was a complete list of every traffic cam and surveillance cam whose feed she’d pulled in tracking the woman in white from Tokyo Station all the way back to the Blind Spot.
This wasn’t a pirated file. Mariko had never typed up a list of all the cameras she’d used. Half of them were duds, and even of the best hits, she’d just printed the clearest images and moved on. So no one had hacked her account back at HQ. Someone had been watching her the whole time. They had monitored all of her computer activity related to the woman in white, and they must have done it in real time. Not just Mariko’s searches for camera feed, either; there were e-mails and memos about the Yuki collar too, and more about the raid on the Sour Plum. Hell, even her phone conversations; she and Han had spoken for all of thirty seconds in setting up this morning’s meet. That was the last entry in the log.
“Han, these people were right here, in this room, less than ten hours ago. They listened to us, they packed up all their shit, and they vanished.”
Han took half a step back, and Mariko realized she’d gotten a little animated with her gesticulations. “Sorry,” she said, crossing her arms. “But you see what I’m saying. Ten hours flat, and they go from fully operational to ghost in the machine. Worse yet, they leave the front door unlocked, just to make sure I’d come down here to see what’s left of their vanishing act.”
“Hm.” He looked at the pages in her hand. “So why’d they leave the log behind? Same reason? Like, just to fuck with your head?”
“Hold on. You don’t think I’m being paranoid, do you? Please tell me you believe me.”
“Are you kidding? Look around.” He stretched his arms out wide, as if to take in the whole room. “Ninja Secret Santa’s workshop. If this wasn’t happening to a good friend of mine, this would be the coolest thing I’ve ever seen.”
That was more than Mariko could take. She sat on the nearest desk and sagged in half. She thought her traffic camera trick was pretty good. She was especially proud of the trick with the high schoolers’ cell phones. All along she’d thought she was flying under the radar, but this printout blew that illusion all to hell. Now, not only had she not found her quarry, but her quarry had only to send this cryptic list to Captain Kusama and that would be the end of Mariko’s career. He’d given her a direct order to work nothing but narcotics cases, and here was a record of all the time she’d spent hunting her assailant instead.
Right from day one, she should have filed an injury report with the department. She should have passed the case to another detective. While she was at it, she could have passed along her idea with the traffic cams too. Cops didn’t take this kind of thing lying down; the woman in white had attacked one of their own, and that meant they’d find her no matter how long it took. Instead she’d passed off her bruises as a kenjutsu injury, she’d disobeyed orders, and now she’d dragged Han into the whole mess. In the last five minutes she had committed breaking and entering, destruction of property, and official misconduct. It was enough to put her in prison.
All for nothing. And now she was out of leads. Her courage leaked out of her like water from a sieve. “Han, what the hell am I going to do?”
“Exactly what you’ve been doing. Look, Mariko, whoever these people are, you’ve got them running scared. That list? It’s like a minefield sign on a field without any mines. They’re trying to frighten you away.”
“Yeah, well, it’s working.”
“No. I’m telling you, they’re more afraid of you than you are of them. They thought they were invisible, but now they know they’re not. Not to you. Not anymore.”
Mariko wished she could find that encouraging. If there really was a Wind, and if they really had been lurking in the shadows for the last five hundred years, it would be quite an honor to be the first one to spot them. But how could she know she was the first one?