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The Secret Meaning of Blossom: a fast-moving spy thriller set in Japan

Page 10

by T. M. Parris


  “It helps to have someone on the ground,” said Fairchild.

  “You’re based here in Tokyo?” Takao asked Rose.

  “No, London, actually.” That was news to Fairchild. He thought she was still in Paris. “I’m here for personal reasons.”

  “Oh?” Takao made no attempt to hide his curiosity.

  “Rose’s brother,” said Fairchild – he saw Rose’s look of warning but wasn’t going to give anything away – “is staying in a capsule hotel.”

  Takao’s face was a picture of horror. “For how long?”

  “A few days so far,” said Rose.

  “No! No!” Takao shook his finger. “Capsule hotel, yes, for one night! And only when too drunk to get home! More than one night, terrible! I am fixer. I fix this! Plenty of places much better than that!”

  “Oh, that’s really not necessary,” said Rose. “It’s a temporary arrangement. Besides, he could share my hotel room if he gets completely fed up of it. It’s only a standard double, but—”

  “No good! No good!” Takao was laying down the law. “You leave it to me! I find something suitable.”

  “Yes, but Takao,” Fairchild spoke gently, “we must be very discreet in this matter, yes? Very discreet.”

  Takao understood perfectly, as Fairchild knew he would. He’d done similar things before. Besides, discretion was a Japanese speciality, particularly when it came to hotel rooms.

  “Of course. Whatever you need, Takao can help.” He gave a little bow. “Tomorrow, right? Don’t worry. Tomorrow, I will sort something out.”

  Fairchild gave Rose an enquiring look. She shrugged. “All right then. Tomorrow.”

  So Fairchild would have a chance to find out more about her intriguing family problem. He looked forward to it, even if Rose didn’t.

  Chapter 17

  James knew the importance of lying low. Rose had phoned to tell him about this chap who was following Mirai. She was absolutely right that it all sounded a bit dodgy, but really, one couldn’t hang around all day in a capsule hotel. There was only the cash desk and the capsules themselves, and they were being cleaned and so on. It really was just a place to kip for the night. Better than a park bench, but not by much, really. So he’d spent the day strolling around getting to know the area and moving from coffee shop to bar to restaurant between times. Slightly concerned that as well as getting to know the area, the area was getting to know him, he tried to vary his route, but didn’t want to venture too far or spend too much money although Rose said she’d lend him a wad if need be.

  She also said he could come and stay with her if he felt the need. But hopefully this episode would be over before long anyway. He’d like nothing better than to go home, or at the very least try and speak to Fiona. What must she be thinking, him not returning her calls? What was she saying to Henry and Sophie about all this? Were they in any danger on account of this mishap? Was he, come to think of it? Or was he just being overly dramatic? Rose didn’t seem to think so.

  She’d certainly got rather prickly when he’d suggested she was a spy, though she shouldn’t be. He and Fiona had even talked about it, but he’d never before had a particular reason to raise it. He was certainly hoping she could help now, although it had only been a day. She’d found Mirai and those two friends of hers, but this other fellow sounded like a complication. Await further instructions, he’d been told, so here he was, duly awaiting, though time was starting to drag.

  He was in a sushi bar this time, not far from the pachinko parlour, trying out a selection from the old conveyor belt. Not bad to be honest, though the wasabi didn’t half make his nose run. Looking out at the dark street with the strange lights and noises, he had a sudden ache of homesickness. Oh, to be back in his own house, Sophie and Henry tucked away upstairs in bed, TV on, Fiona busy with something as usual. How had it all gone wrong? His eyes filled with tears. Or maybe it was the wasabi.

  He stared blankly outside at the bobbing heads passing, wondering if there might be something like a public library of books in English within striking distance, and how on earth you’d find out without the internet, when he became aware that three heads weren’t bobbing past at all but were staring straight in. And that, unfortunately, the one in the middle was Mirai.

  How had that happened? He’d been terribly careful, hadn’t he? And what did she want? She looked at him morosely for a few minutes then the chap next to her said something to her. In fact, the two chaps were the ones in the photos Rose sent that morning. Now she was coming in, though she didn’t look too happy about it. She looked more warrior-like today, in some kind of grey garb and long high-heeled boots. She came and stood next to him.

  “Now, Mirai, come on, really, what is this all about?” he asked. He felt in his pocket for his phone but realised it was on the counter in front of him.

  “You come with me please, James.” She was quiet, but firm.

  “What? No, I’m not going with you. I don’t know what business you think you have with me, but I’m staying right here. And I really think you should either explain yourself or leave.”

  She looked up at the window. Her two friends came in and stood either side of her. One of them had golden tasselled epaulettes on his jacket, like some brigadier. The other was in some white silk get-up with black pom-poms, like those Pierrot clown figures. The three of them lined up to stare at him. No one else batted an eyelid. In Carshalton someone would call the police, unless it was Hallowe’en. James reached for his phone, but then, dammit, the brigadier saw what he was going to do and grabbed it off the counter!

  “Hey! You can’t do that!” James looked around but none of the staff or customers reacted to his shout.

  “I’m sorry,” said Mirai.

  “Well, don’t be sorry. Just give it back. It’s mine.”

  “We can’t.” She looked the picture of misery but James, frankly, didn’t care.

  “This is just insufferable.”

  They all stood there. It was getting awkward.

  “Well, I’m not prepared to put up with this, I’m afraid.” James stood and gathered his things. “I’ll be on my way and you can expect to hear from the police about that phone, believe me.”

  For a moment he thought they would block his path to the door, but they let him through, looking rather shamefaced. James went out, unsure what he’d do after that, but he thought he’d better march off decisively for as long as they could see him.

  “James-san!”

  He turned. Mirai had run out after him. “You have to help us. Please.” She looked pretty desperate, he had to admit.

  “Mirai, you know normally I would, but I have my own problems to think about. I can’t get mixed up in whatever this is about. I don’t know why you think I can help you, anyway.”

  She really did look terribly agitated.

  “Look. If you need help, why not go to the police?”

  A tear slipped down her cheek. Oh, deary dear.

  “I really am terribly sorry.” It went against his instincts to walk away from a lady in distress, but he had to get out of this. He turned and made off down a random street, going as fast as he could without breaking into a run, determined not to look back.

  He was vaguely aware that a car was nosing down the street behind him. Something smacked into the side of his head. He lurched diagonally. His face throbbed. The car drew up alongside. Someone came up to him and punched him. He staggered backwards and fell to his knees, right next to the car. Nice wheel hubs. Looked like a BMW. Vintage. A kick in the lower back jarred his spine. They were all round him now. The car door opened and two of them pulled him up. They pushed him inside head first. One of them got in and slammed the door. The car set off.

  Another man was already on the seat. James scrambled round to an upright position. He was sandwiched between the two of them, leather jackets and short hair. He wasn’t going to stand for this.

  “Hey, you can’t just grab someone, you know!”

  The other chap
landed a fist on his cheek, right where it was already aching. He hadn’t felt pain like this since school. What else could he do? He tried turning round to look out of the back window, but one of them wrenched his head forward again. Now his neck was sore as well. He could see out of the front but had no idea where they were going and couldn’t tell anyone if he did. It seemed he was stuck.

  Things were not going at all well.

  Chapter 18

  On Monday morning Rose tried calling James but he didn’t pick up. She’d left three phone messages and three texts when Fairchild called.

  “Takao’s found some accommodation for your brother. Seems very keen to take him there. It’s probably very nice. And it’ll be safe.”

  “Well, that’s good to know, Fairchild, but I can’t get hold of James today. He’s not answering his phone or replying to texts.”

  A pause. “Are you worried?”

  “Yes.” She kept thinking about the guy who was after Mirai.

  “Well, how about we all get over there, to where he’s supposed to be staying?”

  She didn’t argue; she needed the help. They all drew up in a taxi near Shinjuku Station and Rose led them to where the capsule hotel was. When they got there, Takao looked doubtful.

  “Not usually anyone here daytime,” he said. “Just for overnight, these places.”

  Rose was getting more and more concerned. “Can the staff tell us anything?”

  “That’s not going to be easy,” said Fairchild. “I doubt we’ll get anything out of them. Especially about guests and their sleeping arrangements.”

  Takao stepped forward. “I try it,” he said. “I have couple of ideas.”

  Fairchild shrugged. “If you think it’s worth it.”

  Takao disappeared inside.

  “Does he know you’re pulling his strings?” said Rose.

  “Probably.”

  They stood there gazing round for a few moments. The street was quiet. Someone went past on a bicycle. A cat sloped across the road.

  “Is this out of character for him?” said Fairchild.

  “Completely. He’s not the sort to get into trouble. Or do anything out of the ordinary.”

  “At the reception you said something about unsavoury people being involved.”

  Rose told him about the guy who was following Mirai.

  “Sounds like organised crime,” said Fairchild. “Japanese mafia.”

  “Yakuza? That’s what I thought. I don’t suppose you have any influence there?”

  Fairchild smiled. “I’m afraid not.” When he and Rose first met, he’d been trying to get in with a mafia boss based in Hong Kong. Rose didn’t think he’d ever really forgiven her for sabotaging his operation. Neither had Zack, whose operation it ultimately was.

  “What about Takao?” she said.

  “Not really his thing. He’s a businessman. Legitimate, more or less. This area, Shinjuku, is quite big for yakuza. A lot of unlicensed sex clubs, places where you can buy drugs, pachinko parlours.”

  “Pachinko?”

  “The mafia pretty much controls the pachinko industry. In theory pachinko is classed as gaming, since gambling is illegal. But they run some kind of prize exchange scheme, which gets around it so you can bet money on your games and claim winnings. It’s organised crime outlets that handle the cash and so on. Law enforcement looks the other way. Pachinko is big business after all. And the mafia is semi respectable here.”

  “Well, I’m not sure the guy tailing Mirai was particularly respectable. She didn’t seem to think so.”

  Takao appeared carrying a bulging carrier bag.

  “Any luck?” asked Rose.

  “Yes!” He was triumphant. “So, he’s been here few days. Paid cash in advance for each night. But last night wasn’t here. Even though he already paid. He left some stuff.”

  Takao held out the bag. Rose took it and emptied it out on the pavement. Some underwear in desperate need of a wash. A couple of shirts and a crumpled jacket and trousers. The pyjamas he’d been wearing when she saw him last. Deodorant, toothbrush, toothpaste. Right at the bottom, a photograph of Fiona and the children, quite recent. She held it up.

  “James brought this with him from home. No way would he go off and leave this behind.”

  “No phone?” asked Fairchild.

  “He had a burner phone but it’s not here. He left his own phone and laptop at the first hotel before coming here. He thought he was being tracked.”

  “Maybe he was right,” said Takao philosophically.

  “I need to escalate this,” said Rose. “I’ll call Tim.”

  “Tim said he couldn’t help,” said Fairchild.

  “It’s different now. James is missing and he hasn’t just wandered off. I need to make it official and get people moving. If this all happened last night, he could be anywhere by now. Tim can’t help with hackers, though. I need to call Walter and get him to talk to GCHQ. We have James’ devices. Maybe they’ll tell us something.”

  She stuffed everything back into the bag. Stupid, Rose. You should have stuck with him. You didn’t take this seriously enough, and now he’s gone.

  Her feelings must have shown. “I’ll try Zack,” said Fairchild. “He recently worked with an FBI team that were targeting hackers.”

  “I call people too,” said Takao eagerly. “We find little brother, don’t worry.”

  “Big brother, actually,” said Rose. Big brother she took for granted would always be there, always be home, living his ordinary life. But now he was gone. Despite the offers of help the situation seemed hopeless.

  Then another terrible thing occurred to her; she’d have to call Fiona.

  Chapter 19

  There was a spare office in the staff area at Tokyo Trade Winds. Fairchild planned to use it as a base for the next few days. He suggested to Rose that she come back with him so they could work together. She accepted, to his surprise. He thought she’d want to do her own thing; she’d always kept him at arm’s length before.

  The three of them got in a taxi again. Takao spent the journey calling various people and sounding them out without, as far as Fairchild could tell, saying anything much about what he actually wanted. Indirect would be an understatement. Rose told him what she knew about the three Japanese students, and passed him the photos she’d taken. At Trade Winds, the restaurant area was being prepped to open. Fairchild offered Rose the tiny office and stepped outside to phone Zack.

  “I have a favour to ask,” he said.

  “Huh? Well, I guess I owe you. Seems like I always owe you.”

  “It does, doesn’t it? What do you know about hackers? Japanese hackers in particular?”

  “Me? Nothing. But I know people who know quite a bit. What do you have?”

  “Some photos. It’s a group of three. Young. They may well be otaku.”

  “Ota-what?”

  “They’re very into manga characters and idols and so on. Obsessively so. Role-playing and the like. I mention it as it may help to identify them. Their online personas might tally with their costume preferences, for example.”

  “Whatever. The Feds are doing a lot on this. Tracking down groups that target organisations in the States. Screwing our economy, amongst other things. I helped them with something a while back.”

  “Yes, I know.”

  “Do you?”

  “You mentioned it.”

  “Did I? Don’t remember that.”

  “Well, you did. If you can shed any light, it would be helpful.”

  “Helpful to who exactly, can I ask?”

  Fairchild paused. “The British.”

  “The British? Any British in particular?”

  Another hesitation clinched it.

  “It’s Clarke, isn’t it? Rose Clarke, who’s resigned from the Service, or is in Paris, or something?”

  Was his life really that predictable? “As it turns out, Zack, she’s in Japan.”

  “You don’t say! And I guess she had no idea at a
ll that you were there?”

  Another pause.

  “She did? Amazing! And already she’s roped you into something. You see what I mean with this woman? You’re so into the idea you’re a freelancer, going around working for whoever you want, but she’s got you on a pretty short leash, seems to me.”

  “Zack, listen.”

  “Oh, you’ve got some explanation, have you? How she just happened to be there? You need to wise up, friend.”

  “It’s her brother.”

  A pause. “Brother? What about him?”

  “He came to Japan for a conference. He’s not involved in anything, Zack. He isn’t one of us. But he thought these hackers were onto him and now he’s gone missing.”

  Zack’s bluster evaporated. “Missing?”

  “Yes. And right now, Rose is calling his wife to break the news. We don’t know where he’s gone or what these people want. If it is them. We also think the yakuza is involved.”

  “Yakuza, huh?”

  “And don’t think she came running to me for help. Believe me, that was the last thing she wanted.”

  “Why would hackers be interested in her brother?”

  “He works in IT, apparently. Data security. Encryption. Something to do with crypto-currency.”

  “Crypto?” That got Zack interested. Another long pause. “All right. Send it through and I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Thanks, Zack.”

  Fairchild hung up. Zack talked the talk but he’d do the right thing, even for Rose. And the resources he could draw on were huge. Even so, identifying online personalities from nothing but offline photos was near-impossible.

  He thought a lot before making his next call. There were risks involved, not insubstantial. Mainly to himself, but not exclusively. They needed more leads, though; Zack, Takao, Tim Gardner, none of them had enough. He thought of Rose’s pinched face as she stood in the street stuffing James’ clothes into a carrier bag. She knew how hopeless it was.

  He made the call. It was a Hong Kong number.

 

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