Free Sensei by John Donohue

looked offended. "Like I don't have anything to do but hunt you two morons down," he grumped as the door closed. "Thanks, Kramer," Art called.
    Eventually, the state-of-the-art phone purred, a light blinked, and Art's call got put through.
    Which was how we heard about the Ikagi murder.
    Detective Schedel, LAPD, gave a recital that was disengaged and clinical in that way cops have. Micky had him on speakerphone and the voice sounded like that of a bored guard coming from somewhere way in the back of a warehouse.
    "Pederson? I got the message you posted," he began.
    Micky looked like he was going to ask something; Art shook his head silently.
    ""Vbu asked for anything we might have in the files ..."
    "Martial arts related," Art finished.
    "Buddy," the voice from the cave said, "this is LA. I got freaks in ninja suits falling out of trees."
    "The West Coast is like another world," Art agreed.
    "Maybe not," Schedel replied. "You also mentioned a crime scene with some sort of calligraphy left as a message."
    Micky sat up a little straighter in his hi-tech chair.
    "What've you got?" Art prompted.
    "Eight days ago, some Jap karate instructor gets the shit ripped out of him with a jagged stick. Also something written on the f CO
    wall. In blood."
    know what it said?" Art asked.
    "Oh, yeah. One of the meat wagon guys is up on this kind of stuff. It was ..." You could hear the papers shuffling around on the other coast, even with the echo. "OK, I got it. "Ronin." Is that what you're looking for?"
    "Bingo," Art answered. "Where'd you go with the case?"
    "The usual," Schedel replied. "Rousted the Asian gangs. Talked with the deceased's family, friends, business associates ..."
    "And?"
    "And nada. Nothing. Zip. The guy was a straight arrow. No problems we could find, and we turned over all the rocks. Dead end so far."
    "Tough," Art said without much conviction. They were both professionals and they had a pretty realistic feel for what was solvable and what wasn't. Cops knew you cracked a homicide within forty-eight hours. After that, the odds got slim.
    "Yeah," Schedel continued. "Look, if you're interested in my notes and some crime scene shots, I can get 'em to you. Probably quicker if I sent it over the Net. I've got it on disk." Then his voice grew confidential. "Look. Pedersen?"
    "Yeah."
    "You turn up anything, let me know. This was my squeal, but it's on the way to the cold case file, ya know?"
    Schedel hung up.
    "What gives Art?" Micky said.
    "I've been fooling around with the Internet at home. I got on this secure list serve for homicide departments, and I sent out a description of what we had to see whether anyone had seen anything like it."
    "So now," I said, "this detective Schedel tells us that we've got a similar type of murder taking place a few days ago on the other side of the country."
    They both nodded.
    Micky was standing and looking at the crime scene photos. "This thing," he said, "is getting interesting in a hurry." "Just one thing, Connor." Art said. "What?" The two of them looked at each other and gave me their patented cop look.
    "It's still an open case in California. Don't let Bobby Kay talk to the LAPD."

sEVEN
Things Not Said
    Yamashita couldn't stand it anymore. "Cut him down," he called fiercely, as he churned across the floor toward us. "Cut him DOWN!"
    The early morning training session is not heavily attended. Only the hard core tend to make it. As a result, Yamashita is usually a bit more approachable.
    But this morning his mood had altered. It wasn't a lack of focus, exactly, but he seemed even more preoccupied. Yamashita's perception was normally ratcheted up way above that of normal people. On days like today, he would stare off into the distance and seem frozen with effort, straining to identify the hint of something that was beyond the threshold of his students to sense.
    The nonverbal elements of communication and perception are highly valued by the Japanese; they prize their ability to grasp the