The Damned Chef

Part I

The sound of boiling water constantly steamed into the room. Frying pans and other cooking utensils were scattered throughout the small Japanese style kitchen. Seaweed rolls haphazardly covered the far right wall, while on the opposite side steamed white rice powdered the wall. The raw fish selection had been overturned and all the raw foods covered the floor. Imamura Kyoshi’s unconscious body was lying among them. Face covered in wasabi and other spicy Japanese sauces.
His brother Chiba Kyoshi surveyed the scene. Wondering what had befallen his brother, he hadn’t bothered calling the police. He was a freelance detective and had already decided to resolve this matter on his own. He flicked out his tape recorder as he wandered around the scene. The kitchen was absolutely trashed and Chiba had a firm belief in what had happened. “It appears to be a robbery, signs of vandalism are very evident” he toned into his recorder. He moved into the back entrance where the door was. He tested it. It was still locked and firmly in place. “There appear to be no signs of forced entry in the back entrance”, this was only getting more irritating.
Chiba moved on heading back to the front entrance taking a look into the seating area. It was completely empty and void of any catastrophe. “The entrance is clear of vandalism and there appears to be no forced entrance so the restaurant must have been open at the time of the assault”. Chiba continued his circuit throughout the entire restaurant taking notes and voicing his ideas on the matter. Then he heard it.
It was soft at first, and then it came louder, a banging noise coming from the kitchen. Chiba’s hand flew to his holstered six shooter. “Easy now, no need to be hasty”, he said to himself relaxing, but keeping a firm grip on the gun. He walked past his unconscious brother and moved cautiously to the locked door of the storage room. “Help” came the cry and the pounding ensued tenfold.
“My name is Detective Chiba! I’m here to help you, now step back from the door!” Chiba unlatched the door then kicked it inn while drawing his gun in one fluid motion. A terrified dish cleaner awaited him, shivering and covered in a whole platter of stains. “What the hell?”
A few minutes later the still shaking dish cleaner that worked for his Imamura was seated across from Chiba at a table. An ambulance squatted outside where paramedics where seeing to Imamura. “This conversation will be recorded, so please just answer to the best of your ability. You aren’t under oath so just answer the question. What happened here?”




Part II

The restaurant opened at one in the afternoon, it was basically a typical day. A good amount of customers coming in and out and Imamura did all the cooking as usual and I washed all the dishes. After the rush ended which started at around six and ended at nine we usually have a few stragglers, at most three people. At ten we closed and since I live here in the upper part bed chambers, I stay up late washing all the dishes. And then I end up cleaning up the whole place as well. Last night was different.
We played some tile games; I forget what it was called. He beat me every single round he told me it was because I dye my hair all the time and all the chemicals go to my head. I just told him kiss a bowl of wasabi. Then this strange feeling creeps up my spine and before I know it, this bowl of wasabi went whipping through the air right over my head and into his face.
I was lucky because I had ducked but, from Imamura’s view it looked like I had thrown it. “You piece of no good trash how dare you throw wasabi in my restaurant! I’ll give you a hiding you won’t ever forget and ill make your hide so raw!” the creepy feeling came crawling up my spine again and a handful of sticky rice slaps me full in the face. At this point we both realized neither of us had thrown food at the other.
“Whose there!” he shouted reaching for his cutting board knife, before his hand touched it, the knife flicked from the board and into the far wall into the center of the lotus painting.
“Imamura! I have a bad feeling about this.”
Right after the words left my lips, all hell broke loose. The Invisible force that I had been feeling forced itself through the room. Pots and pans clanged to the floor and food started whipping about slapping us in our faces. Then the knives started flying. I dove behind a counter as they slammed into the cupboards, which opened and dumped my cleaned dishes on top of me shattering them in the process. I ran for the storage room which was open and I dove inside closing the door behind me as the whirlwind continued inside the kitchen. I heard Imamura screaming and cursing, “You damned chef! Get outta my city kitchen!”
Then I heard a table being overturned and a loud smash, and Imamura stopped screaming. I tried opening the door but it was locked from the outside. Then I felt the pressure all around me again and after that I don’t remember anything else.

Part III

Chiba stopped the digital tape recorder and looked across the table at the dish washer, “Listen I understand you don’t want to tell me about what you did. As you can see the recorder is off, so what are you on?” The dish washer stuttered, “W-what!? You think I was high! It happened I swear!”
Chiba just shook his head getting up and left the restaurant. A few officers waited outside “okay you two listen closely there was a burglary here and that’s my official statement, also I want the kid to be taken in for drug testing see if anything comes up positive. That is all your dismissed”, the two officers took the dish washer boy and left in their patrol car while Chiba got into his Hyundai Elantra and drove off to the hospital where his brother lay in a medicated coma. Chiba arrived shortly after leaving the restaurant and he was ushered into his brother’s room after waiting half an hour in the stifling waiting room. The place smelled like sick people.
Imamura was swathed in bandages the obscured his oriental face. A small bag with his belongings sat beside his table and an old television sat in the corner opposite of him, for when he woke up. Chiba kneeled down next to his brother and whispered a prayer, being very religious he placed his cross necklace upon his brother’s chest, praying that the good god would be with him.
He retired himself to the bedside chair and waited, simply waited. It was only about twenty minutes until the boredom settled in, and his interest shifted from his brother to his brother’s possessions. He opened the bag and took out the contents, a cell phone, I-pod, a planner, and “The pocket book of recipes”. He opened the planner to the marked page with the corner folded.
The contents between the page spilled out, there were three letters, one addressed to him, on addressed to Ookami Toushiro, and one addressed to “The Chef”. Chiba guessed Toushiro was the dish washer. And he hastily opened the letter addressed to him.

Part IV

Dear Chiba,
My brother if you are reading this it means something has happened to me. It means it has got me. My restaurant is cursed brother, by the damned chef. He bothers me day and night, taking my things, stealing supplies. Most of the time he spikes the food with various sauces causing some of my customers to go running to the water fountain! He’s mostly harmless but sometimes he can get out of hand. I ask you to take over my restaurant; we can’t let his existence be known. If it was, think of all the media and how the scientists would try to do something, capture him even. He is a smart one, that damned chef. He can also be of great help; he gave me all the ideas to all my recipes, although his mischief can get over bearing at times. Since I’ve probably fallen to one of his endless pranks no doubt I am still alive, just unconscious, he plays rough at times when you don’t leave a wasabi roll outside the storage room. The recipe for it is in my small pocket book of recipes on the very last page. I ask you to return to the restaurant at once and make the roll for him, also there is no doubt that my dish washer Toushiro was involved in this as well. Please give him the letter addressed to him and I’m sure he’ll understand the instructions. Take care brother; oh and please give the damned chef his letter! He might miss me if I stay away for too long.

Sincerely,
Imamura Kyoshi.