The Devouring God by James Kendley

scrubs. But the custodians wear jumpsuits much like the one you’re wearing now.”
    He nodded. “We’ll stay in touch. I’m sure this will be helpful, even if he doesn’t know where the artifact is right now.”
    When they walked out to the reception area a few minutes later, they came face-­to-­face with Section Chief Hasegawa.
    He had a whole bench to himself, even though several ­people stood nearby. His mass, his rumpled suit, and his radiating anger drove everyone else away. He was an enraged and desperate bureaucrat in his prime.
    He saw Takuda and Yoshida approaching, and he leapt to his feet, his face twisting as if the first words of his tirade were fighting each other to escape his mouth.
    And at that moment, the glass front doors whooshed open and Detective Kimura sauntered in from the darkened street.
    Hasegawa’s gaze drifted from Takuda and Yoshida to Kimura. He strode to the detective and poked him in the sternum with his thick forefinger. “You didn’t take care of my staff.” His eyes were red-­rimmed and puffy. “She says you knew. You knew he was unstable.”
    Kimura said, “Sorry, but I can’t comment on this ongoing investigation.”
    Hasegawa leaned into Kimura, his face even darker.
    Yoshida groaned. Takuda handed her his staff.
    Hasegawa had Kimura by the collar by the time Takuda reached them. Hasegawa grunted and strained as Takuda gently forced himself between them, inexorably wedging them apart. “Security guard . . . you . . . oof . . . let me . . .”
    It was just a matter of keeping himself between them. He bowed as Hasegawa threw punches past his ribs, murmuring apologies in the politest language he knew, ridiculously polite, period-­drama polite, so polite he had never used some of the phrases himself.
    Hospital security came just as it was winding down. Takuda bowed and explained that they would all leave soon, and that there was a simple disagreement on protocol. Prefecture business and all. Takuda didn’t even have to look to know that Kimura flashed the detective’s notebook at that point.
    This set the stage for the head of hospital security to step forward and lambaste them all, leaving Takuda to use his most polite Japanese twice in the same day. This was the detective’s cue to slip out the door, and it should have been the section chief’s time to go as well, but he stood and made his bows beside Takuda, handing over his card and explaining that he was protecting a patient from badgering by police.
    â€œThat’s the doctors’ decision,” said the head of security. “It’s a hospital, not a bar. You don’t go having this sort of dust-­up in the lobby.”
    No one pointed out that the shouting by the head of security was louder and longer than the original scuffle.
    When it was all over, Hasegawa thanked Takuda. “It’s been twenty years since I got that angry. Thanks for taking care of me there. I would have broken his ass off.”
    Takuda bowed. Hasegawa bowed in return. “I’ll put in a good word with Ota for you,” Hasegawa said.
    Yoshida drifted up to him and handed him the staff. “I hid this under the couch while you were scuffling,” she said. “The section chief owes you a favor, but Detective Kimura owes you his life. You kept him from getting his ass broken off today.”
    Takuda snorted.
    â€œI’m serious,” she said. “Now he’ll feel obliged to tell you whatever he knows about Thomas.”
    â€œI need to talk to Thomas. That’s what I really need.”
    She said, “Before you go, see if Kimura can tell you something that will unlock Thomas’s head.”
    Takuda frowned. He wasn’t at all sure he wanted to unlock the foreigner’s head. After the encounter in the foreigner’s house, he was a little afraid of what he might