O'Day had a two-handed grip now and was already making another swing for the bleachers. Jack flung the remnant of the Glock, bouncing it off his forehead. O'Day grunted in pain and his swing went wide.
With that, Jack vaulted over the counter, grabbed a dagger off the wall, and flung it. O'Day knocked it away in midair with the blade. He grinned, confident. He knew how to handle a katana.
And now Jack knew it too.
He grabbed another knife—a heavy dirk—threw it, and reached for his Kel-Tec in its ankle holster. But the dirk went wide and the katana smashed into the display case inches from Jack's head, showering him with glittering shards of glass.
He forgot about his backup for an instant as he rolled away from the glass and O'Day's follow-up swing. Then O'Day climbed over what was left of that section of the display case and charged, the katana held high with both hands, his mouth wide in a scream of rage. Looked like he'd had enough and wanted to end this here and now.
On the floor, with no room for lateral movement in the narrow lane behind the cases, Jack scrabbled away on hands and knees. In desperation he grabbed a wavy bladed kris from a case as he passed and winged it over his shoulder. He heard O'Day's scream choke off but he didn't slow. Without looking back he dove onto the display cabinet and rolled to the other side. As soon as he hit the floor, he rolled again, yanking his backup free along the way. He leaped to his feet, aiming the Kel-Tec P-11 at O'Day's center of mass.
But didn't fire.
O'Day stood behind the counter, leaning against the wall. He'd lowered the katana, though he hadn't dropped it. His eyes were glazed as blood poured from his mouth. Somehow, the kris had landed point first in his open mouth, piercing the rear of his throat. The wavy blade protruded at an angle, and began to bob as he made a slow turn and staggered toward the rear of the store.
Jack heard a clattering clank and figured he'd finally lost his grip on the sword. He made it to the NO ADMITTANCE door before collapsing face-first onto the floor. The dead-weight impact of the floor against the pommel of the kris drove its blade deeper into his throat and out the back of his neck. His legs spas-kicked a couple of times, then he lay still.
Jack watched it all and felt nothing.
Bye-bye, Tom O'Day. Maybe Hugh Gerrish will be waiting for you on the other side. Should be an interesting conversation.
He hurried around to the back of the counter and lifted the katana, careful to avoid its cutting edge. He felt a strange sensation run through him as he touched the blade. Couldn't identify it—at once thrilled and repulsed. He gripped it by the handle and had to fight off a mad urge to swing it in a decapitating arc.
Was that what had happened between Gerrish and O'Day?
No matter. He wasn't going to keep it…
Or was he?
Jack felt this mad rush of desire to take it and hang it on his wall and shred anybody who tried to take it from him.
He shook it off. Three people dead now because of it—at least he assumed the bat-wielding guy who had charged into Gerrish's apartment had left the living. Three that he knew of. Who knew how many it had killed since Masamune had made it? He couldn't see how it could be worth it.
Time to get out of here. He needed something to wrap it in, and then he'd be gone. He looked around…
And his gaze settled on the security cam.
Shit!
Despite his hat, with all that dodging and weaving and rolling over the counter, no way his face hadn't been exposed. Had to find that tape or disk or hard drive or whatever and trash it.
He dragged a chair over to the corner and was climbing toward the cam when a rattling racket came from the front of the store. Someone was banging on the security shutter.
"Mister O'Day?" a voice called. "Are you in there? You are supposed to be open by now."
That sounded like the yakuzas' boss from last night. The same guys? Could it be possible?
Didn't matter. Couldn't be caught here.
He hopped down and pulled on the NO ADMITTANCE door, but it wouldn't budge because O'Day's corpse was slumped against it. Jack was trying to slide him out of the way when he heard the steel curtain begin to roll up. No time to get out, so he darted toward the counter. On the way he spotted the pieces of his ruined Glock on the floor. He snatched up everything in sight and ducked behind the display cases. Beneath them he spotted wooden doors. He slid one open and found a near-empty space occupied by a few stilettos and folding knives. A tight fit but…
He put the katana in first, making sure its cutting edge was facing away. He followed it, folding his knees against his chest and sliding the door closed. He waited, listening, Kel-Tec ready.
Hideo had noticed that the security shutter was unlocked, so he instructed Goro to raise it. The lights were on within. He pushed on the door and it swung open.
"Mister O'Day?" he called again. "Are you in there?"
No answer.
Kenji slipped past him and entered the store. He took two steps and stopped. He glanced back with a surprised and concerned expression, then hurried forward. The two other yakuza followed. Hideo hesitantly brought up the rear, sensing that something bad waited ahead.
He was right. One quick look at Mr. O'Day, a flash of the hilt of a dagger distorting his mouth and the bloody point of its wavy blade jutting from the back of his neck, was all he could take. He turned away and struggled to hold down his breakfast of natto, nori, and miso soup.
He succeeded, then managed to say, "The katana—does anyone see the katana?"
As they began looking, Hideo noticed people passing on the street. No one glanced in, but sooner or later someone would.
"Hurry!"
Goro and Ryo rolled the body away from the rear door. Kenji stepped through and turned on the lights.
"Takita-san! Come see!"
Hideo gingerly stepped over the corpse and peeked in the room. He gasped at the dozens of gleaming blades racked on the walls. He knew little about katana, but sensed this was a magnificent collection.
Unfortunately each blade appeared to be in perfect condition. And there on the floor lay the rug he had seen O'Day carrying from Gerrish's apartment building—empty.
He glanced again at the front of the store. Madison Avenue was becoming busier and busier. Only a matter of time before someone stopped in for a look.
The katana was not here. O'Day had killed Gerrish to get it, and now someone had killed O'Day. This blade was leaving a trail of corpses in its blood-soaked wake. How was he going to find this latest killer?
Wait. Hadn't he seen a security camera on one of the walls? He stepped back in to the front area and yes—a camera mounted near the ceiling. A chair sat conveniently in place below it. He climbed upon it to get an idea of where the wire might go. He tugged on it and—
It came free.
Only a gentle tug to pop it out of the wall. Hideo found himself looking at the clean-cut end of a coaxial cable, devoid of any connector.
No! A prop!
In a fit of rage he tore the fake cam from the wall and hurled it across the store, spewing curses as it flew.
Hideo hated O'Day then. He deserved to be dead. He had left Hideo with no record of what had transpired here.
He jumped to the floor and hurried to the front door where he scanned the street. No traffic cams in sight. He cursed again, this time under his breath.
Then he turned to Goro. "Turn out the lights inside and lower the shutter." To Kenji: "Call the car."