Tokyo Enigma (18 page)

"No, I didn't know about them at all."

Kuroda might hedge or bluff, but I didn't think he'd lie in
response to a simple, direct question. I decided to talk to him,
starting with how we found Sayoko's apartment torn apart and
ending with our plan at the park to draw out the people who planted
the bugs in Lance's office.

"You didn't expect to meet those men?" he said.

"Actually, I'd have given good odds that you would show
up."

He didn't react to my attempt to bait him.

"By the way, the man's name is Yamazaki."

Kuroda's left cheek twitched. "I know. What was he looking
for?"

I shrugged. "That's why we gave him a deck of cards."

"You didn't know then, but do you know now? What did he
say?"

Yuri wouldn't like this. "Between you and me, right? He's
looking for a tape."

"A tape of what?"

"We don't know."

"I asked you who Yokoyama is. You haven't answered."

"Kamio Investigators. First name's Naoto." I also told him
about Nozaka and I meeting him and the follow-up by the
police.

Kuroda shoved his hands into his coat pockets and stared
past me. "What else do you know?"

I wasn't ready to tell him about the safety deposit box key.
"That's it for today, Kuroda-san. Anything else comes up, I'll call." I
started to walk away.

"Sanchez-san, you know the Arabic expression, 'The enemy
of my enemy is my friend?'"

"I don't think much of it."

"That's too bad. We might have the same enemies."

Knowing that Yokoyama worked for Kamio Investigators
didn't answer the question of who he was. Yuri called Sayoko and
asked her to look at our pictures of him. She might have seen the guy
with Maho. While we waited for her, I filled Yuri in on my
conversation with Kuroda. She still didn't like the idea of giving him
information, but she agreed that it was probably the best way to deal
with him. He wasn't going away.

By the time Sayoko arrived, we had loaded the photos and
had set up a computer in an interview room. She said she'd had
stayed with the student motorcyclist for a couple of days then moved
on to another friend. Hard life. The strain was showing in her
complexion and darker skin around her eyes.

Yuri brought her fruit juice and a shrink-wrapped package
of deep-fried sweet bread.

We had set up a computer in an interview room and loaded
the photos. A technician had brightened the pictures of Yokoyama to
compensate for the restaurant's dim lighting, but they still weren't
very good. Sayoko studied each photo carefully. We had twenty-two
shots, about half of which were from the same angle. Three showed
him standing, and one of those showed his backside as he bowed
goodbye to Nozaka. We ran through them twice. After about fifteen
minutes, my right arm started to cramp. I'd been concentrating so
hard that I hadn't moved it except to click a mouse. "I need a
break."

Yuri followed me out.

"I may never use this shoulder again."

"That's a nerdy complaint, for a tough guy." Yuri started at
my wrist and squeezed one hand over the other until she got halfway
up my bicep. Then she mashed her thumb into the back of my neck
and along my shoulder.

"You can keep doing that as long as you want."

"How about once more."

She had just grabbed my wrist again when we heard
Sayoko's voice. She sounded like a Valkyrie wailing through a wad of
wet gauze. Yuri got to the door first. Sayoko was talking and pointing
to the computer screen.

Yuri translated rapid fire. "It's him, at the inn in Izu with
Maho-san. The man who said he'd pay more if she—"

If she got serious in her role-play with Maho.

I thought it had taken her a little too long to identify the guy
to be believable, until I looked at the screen. We had loaded
everything, but I hadn't thought to show her the pictures taken in the
parking lot near the train station. The one of me wasn't very good,
but you could clearly see the face of the man she pointed to. It was
the plainclothes policeman who'd asked me for my passport.

Sayoko looked shaky. Yuri and I took her for a late lunch and
an early bottle of wine. We talked about a lot except inns on the Izu
peninsula. She said she was estranged from her parents and couldn't
go home, even if she wanted to. She looked like she did. After Maho
was killed, she'd called. Her mother had answered and wouldn't
speak to her. Her parents had expected her to stay, marry a local and
take care of them in their old age. She'd had other ideas and said
some nasty things to them before she left for the big city. Apparently
unforgivable things.

A child's spite, I figured, was a piece of the natural order.
Either Sayoko's folks were sad cases, or she'd left something out.
Whichever, it was a family affair, and I wasn't kin.

After more promises to call daily, Yuri and I left Sayoko and
headed back to the agency.

"How far do you want to go with Kuroda?" I said.

"I know what you're thinking, and that's a big risk. We can't
be sure that Kuroda didn't send those men himself."

"He said we might have the same enemies."

"He might also be lying like a two-headed snake. Maybe we
do have a lot to gain, if we can trust Kuroda, but those people are
dangerous. Don't lose sight of that, Mick."

I was willing to take the risk, but I wouldn't unless everyone
agreed. "You're right. What if we put it to a vote, you, me, Morimoto
and Nozaka. If anyone says 'no,' we don't show Kuroda the
pictures."

Everyone agreed. Nozaka was the most enthusiastic. He
wanted revenge for the embarrassment of being hustled out of the
restaurant by police. Yuri was stoic and practical. She admitted that
bringing in Kuroda would be our smartest move. Morimoto voted
with the prevailing wind.

I was sure we were on the brink of a major move, but we
couldn't make it immediately. Kuroda was out for the weekend. That
gave me time to tie up a loose thread, a trip to a certain inn in Izu.
Yuri managed to get enough information from Sayoko to identify the
place she had gone with Maho. Whether we got anything that
directly affected the investigation, at least I could get a feel for the
place and scratch off an itch in mind.

The Izu peninsula wasn't exactly the South Seas, but the
vegetation was tropical, and the atmosphere was warm, even if the
air wasn't. Geologists figured it had been an island that had ridden
continental drift from the south into Japan's mainland. The soil and
plants were different from those in the rest of Honshu.

The inn was a small place with only five rooms up narrow
winding roads into the mountains. It was off-season, and we were
the only guests. The mom and pop proprietors had sake and supper
ready for us when we arrived. "Mom" brought the first course and
poured sake for us, and then I poured for her when she stayed at the
table a while and chatted. Yuri asked her if she ever got large
groups.

"One company rents the whole inn for an office outing every
year," she said.

"How about parties for guests that don't stay over?"

The woman cocked her head without answering.

Yuri asked about the night Sayoko cited. It was around the
autumnal equinox holiday.

"Mom" said she couldn't remember, tittered and decided she
needed to help "Pop."

"What do you think?" I said.

"I think they just run the place. It would be interesting to
know who owns it."

"Can we find out?"

"I expect so. I'll call Morimoto."

"It's Saturday night."

Yuri was too busy punching in numbers to answer.

After she rang off, she said, "He'll get on it, but there's not
much he can do until Monday."

"I wonder what he does on a Saturday: practice go and read
classics or watch game shows and visit cosplay clubs."

"Who cares? I know what I'm going to do." Yuri led the way
to the inn's bath, a small rock-lined pool fed by a natural hot spring.
The bathroom was paneled in cedar and overlooked a small garden
enclosed by a beige stucco wall. We helped each other wash with
lavender soap and Yuri shaved my face with a tiny plastic razor. She
was good, no nicks, no stubble.

In our room, a futon had been laid out on the tatami and
covered in lightly starched linen and feather-soft comforters. The
tatami was new. The reeds had an aroma of freshly mown grasses. It
was musky, like Yuri.

We loved with the languid flow of a warm spring. No rutting
bull this time.

Our train didn't leave until the afternoon, so Sunday
morning we walked along the shore and talked about music and
books and what we might have been, if we'd done something else
with our lives.

We also shared darker secrets, things that handicap the
human spirit as surely as physical incapacities debase the body. Yuri
told me about her mother. She'd had hepatitis B, but still she drank.
She had collapsed in a bar, and a day later, died in a hospital. Yuri
had been in her third year of university in New Orleans. She and her
aunt arrived in time for the wake. When I was very young, my
parents fought almost ceaselessly until they just gave up. They
virtually stopped speaking to each other and to me as well. Yuri had
had her aunt. I'd had my grandmothers, one Hispanic and one Irish. I
still found refuge in their memories.

We checked out and were on our way to the train station
before Yuri realized we'd forgotten to call Sayoko. She phoned, but
there was no answer. Next she rang the boy with the bike. He hadn't
seen or heard from her.

She called Sayoko a few more times and left messages.

No response.

I had underestimated Morimoto. He was a tiger in his
element. When we met at Protect Agency Monday morning, he said
looked like he'd just won a prize fight.

"I found the owner of the inn."

"On a Sunday? How?" I said.

"The Internet never sleeps. You just have to know where to
look." He smirked. "It's a company registered in the Caymans."

"That doesn't really..."

"Make sense." Yuri finished my thought.

"It might. I also traced a payment from a Cayman bank to the
inn. It was for five hundred thousand yen."

"So?"

"The same amount was deposited the next day in an account
held by Maho under her alias. I need time to make more connections.
Here are the account numbers." He handed me a slip of paper.

"Take the time you need." Yuri and I had a more pressing
agenda. Find Sayoko.

"So, now what?" Yuri said.

"Kuroda's my best offer. Maybe she's been reported
missing."

"Not likely, but we have to start somewhere. I'll see if he can
come here. We can show him the photos that put a fright into
Sayoko. Long shot, but who knows."

Kuroda agreed to come. Twenty minutes later the
receptionist announced his arrival.

Yuri led him to a room where she had set up a computer
with the primary photo on display. "We haven't been able to contact
Sayoko. Has she been reported missing?"

"Not that I have heard. I probably would have been
informed, since she may have bearing on the murder."

Yuri pointed to the computer screen. "Sayoko identified this
guy as one of the men in a private sex show at an inn in Izu."

A network of wrinkles deepened around Kuroda's eyes. He
acted like he was the only person in the room, alternately whispering
to himself and making rattling noises in the back of his throat. He
traced his fingertip on the desktop as though he was writing notes to
himself. In his private mumblings, he subtracted days and added
hours to put events known only to him into perspective.

Finally, he turned away from the computer and lit a
cigarette.

"Who are they?" I asked.

"Police."

"We already know that. Okay, wrong question. What did
they want with me? What's their connection to Yokoyama?"

Kuroda pulled down the corners of his mouth and answered
with a shake of his head. "I'll tell you what I do know. The one who
asked you for your passport is named Okabe. He is in charge of the
Maho Hosoi murder case."

"I thought you were. I just assumed."

"No, I'm not working on that. Not directly."

"Tidy as a mama cat. The guy investigating Maho's death
was her stage director for live sex shows and was connected with a
private investigator who was giving her money. Where do you fit in
Kuroda-san? You said 'not directly.'"

Kuroda pressed his hand against the back of his neck and
stared at the ceiling. "I'm working on the Okabe case." He said
something in Japanese, and Yuri translated. "Internal
investigation."

"The enemy of my enemy? Why didn't you tell us up
front?"

Kuroda stayed with Japanese and left the English translating
to Yuri. "Actually, he shouldn't have told you at all. 'We are not
natural allies, are we? We had to find our mutual interests and trust
that we all understood them.'"

"You once said you would try to help clear Dorian, if we
produced evidence he didn't kill Maho?"

Again Yuri translated. "'It isn't my case. It never will be, but
if Okabe is taken off, then you can have a real investigation. Maybe
Dorian can avoid a trial.'"

It didn't sound like a big victory for my side, but it was
better than a goose egg. "Okay, now what?"

"I would like to talk to Sayoko Shiyoda. I regret I have
nothing to help you find her, but if you hear anything please call
me."

As soon as Kuroda left, Yuri tried to contact Sayoko again.
No luck.

I smacked the table with my fist. "After all this time, what in
blazes do we have? A witness who can ID a dirty cop."

Yuri squeezed her arms tight across her chest. "But we can't
find her."

"We have a key."

"But no lock."

"We have a friendly cop."