by Nick Hurst
He made it sound as though I’d popped along for a cup of tea instead of being bludgeoned around the head and dragged in. It seemed an opportunity to depart in a manner similarly suited to social norms.
‘Oh, it was my pleasure. It’s been fascinating – thank you so much for your time. But I’m sure I must have taken too much of it already. I should really get out of your way.’
He ignored the hint.
‘So now we must turn to your girlfriend.’
I have to admit, my focus had moved from the quest for Tomoe to saving my own life. I wasn’t sure how to react now Takata brought it back.
‘I take it from your visit you no longer know where she is?’ he asked.
I nodded.
‘And you think that I might?’
I shook my head.
‘I’m sure you don’t,’ I said, desperate not to offend him. ‘I just thought, perhaps, you might have an idea of someone who would know or you could possibly ask questions to find out. She was very upset by her father’s passing and may have had some outlandish ideas. I’m sure she’s calmed down now though. She’ll have realised how ridiculous they were.’
I managed to say my piece but it was a battle. A large part of me just wanted him to dismiss me so I could escape.
‘We had nothing to do with the disappearance of your girlfriend. You’re right, she did come to talk to me, although she was more conventional – she made an appointment to see me in Ginza and received a more cordial welcome as a result. Your girlfriend is a lady of culture, an artist, someone deserving of respect. We spoke, she said some things – things I was willing to accept from someone of her stature – and there were areas in which I could enlighten her as well. But that’s all there was. If she’s missing that saddens me and I truly hope she returns safe and well. But I have no further connection to her. It isn’t my affair.’
‘But—’ I said, my mouth prompted by the memory of her when she returned, the distress his ‘enlightenment’ had caused.
‘That’s all there is,’ he interrupted, the finality in his voice putting it at the scarier end of suave. ‘I had no compulsion to tell you that much. It was out of respect to your girlfriend and because I enjoyed our talk. But there’s nothing else. It’s time for you to end your investigations. It’s time for you to leave.’
It was both exactly what I wanted to hear and precisely not. I started to get up.
‘You need to leave Japan. There’s nothing for you here.’
That stopped me. It’s an unusual experience being thrown out of a country, even more so when it’s at the hands of a gangland boss. But there was something else. His choice of words seemed to imply something had happened to Tomoe.
‘What do you m—’
‘I would suggest you make a fulsome apology to Kurotaki as you go out. You must realise that face is everything for a yakuza. To be insulted by another yakuza is bad enough; to be insulted by a non-yakuza is even worse. For the person to be non-Japanese – and I hope you realise this is a mentality I’m describing and not my own view of the world – it’s completely unacceptable.’
‘But—’
‘Thank you once again for coming by.’
It was said with finality. My time was up. Trying to extend it would only anger a man whose whims could mortally affect my life. I bowed, thanked him and, stomach churning, made for the door.
Kurotaki and the other yakuza turned when I stepped out. I bowed to a right angle before they could react further, apologising profusely and showing the total submission I assumed was necessary to have any chance of walking out. When I righted myself, Kurotaki was looking over my shoulder. I sensed Takata’s presence and realised it was only his say-so that would save me. He must have given it silently because it was Kurotaki who spoke.
‘Get the fuck out of here now.’
This time I took his advice.
FOURTEEN
Takata’s ‘nothing’ played in my head when I got home. Its implications disturbed me. Now I was being kicked out of the country I wouldn’t be able to find out what they were. I wouldn’t be able to look for Tomoe. I might never see her again.
The thought wouldn’t leave me and I tossed and turned as I lay in bed, working myself into ever greater levels of distress. But beneath it another emotion was lurking, one that in some ways upset me just as much.
I felt relieved.
Relieved to be alive. Relieved I was being sent back to England where I had an excellent chance of staying that way. It felt cowardly despite the circumstances but I couldn’t shake the sentiment off.
I woke the next morning feeling like I’d been beaten around the head with a bat. I struggled to the mirror and saw the left side of my face was puffy and red. Yet instead of being cowed by my reflection I felt strangely emboldened, as though I’d developed some kind of inner strength as I slept. It felt like it was driving me on, telling me I couldn’t give up, that I was all that Tomoe had.
But it was false bravado. A boldness afforded by the distance from my oppressors and the fact there was nothing I could do. Even if I had been the brave, fearless type, I’d just used my last card. The police weren’t going to help me, I didn’t know Tomoe’s contacts and her company was actively involved. The yakuza had been all there was left.
The following week was painful. I told people I’d suffered a family bereavement, hoping they’d leave it at that. I was lucky with my school – we’d just broken up for half-term and that gave them the chance to scramble together a replacement. Even with friends I stuck to the line. The truth still seemed implausible. Even if it hadn’t, I wasn’t keen to recount it and drag more people into my mess.
In some ways, I was being truthful; I was grieving. It just wasn’t for a family member but for my girlfriend. The girlfriend who’d betrayed me but I couldn’t disown. The girlfriend I might never see again.
Even with Johnny it felt too raw to fully explain, but when I mentioned the yakuza he was quickly convinced that going home was the best thing to do.
There wasn’t much to pack up in my flat and I was finished a couple of days before my flight. That left a final piece of business – Tomoe’s place. I had to hope she would be back there at some point and I didn’t want her returning to the scene of destruction I’d witnessed earlier in the week.
I’ve always been slow when it comes to cleaning, taking as much time on breaks as the actual work. At Tomoe’s there were even more distractions than normal. My mind wandered as I held a scarf to my nose and I became sentimental as I packed away her favourite things. Hardest were the pictures: Polaroids of her as a child beaming up at an austere father; photobooth shots of her clowning around with friends.
A photo of the two of us caught my eye. A blurred picture brightened by smiles – the blurring a result of her jumping on my back as I held out the camera, the smiles a carefree couple’s happy glow.
‘Come on, you lazy barbarian,’ she’d berated me after bursting into my apartment at dawn – it was a time before surprise visits equated to murder or the yakuza. ‘We’re going skiing in Kusatsu for the weekend. Hurry up and get dressed – you’re wasting valuable holiday time.’
I’d known nothing about this unplanned trip. She was meant to be away on work – what kind of work, I wondered now – and I’d been out the night before. But her infectious energy had driven me from my hangover into the day and we’d had a wonderful weekend in the snow-dusted, picture-postcard town.
I pulled out the photo. If – no, when – she came back, I’d scan it and send it to her if she didn’t have the original file. I slid the tin box back in the shelf. Everything was neat and tidy again, better than I kept my own flat.
Except for an envelope that had slid forward as I jiggled the box back in place. I tucked it in and started to get up but something drew me back down. I pulled it out and opened it. Her work contract was inside. I looked through it, curious to know what the job description for a tayū is like. But it was all legalese, even more bafflin
g for not being in my native tongue.
And an address.
It was like being poked with a cattle prod. I’d been racking my brain for leads, the lack of which had nearly got me killed. But I hadn’t thought to check Tomoe’s flat. Everything I needed was probably there.
I devoured the apartment, this time seeking clues rather than trips down memory lane.
But there was nothing. Nothing except the address.
‘Ray-san?’ she said. ‘What a surprise.’
Which was as I’d intended. I’d already had the last throw of the dice. This was a bonus roll, a lucky dip, perhaps not even that. But if nothing else it would give me the chance to face down this sweetly spoken devil. I’d had no intention of forewarning her and getting fobbed off.
She made an attempt all the same.
‘I’m so sorry, Ray-san, we’re incredibly busy. There’s an exhibition starting tomorrow and we’re in a state of controlled panic. You know how these things are.’
She paused as though trying to gauge the effect. This was complicated by the conversation taking place through an entry system voice box. I said nothing, forcing the onus back onto her.
‘I’m so sorry to have wasted your time, but would it be at all possible to come back when it’s over?’
‘I’m sorry, I’m going away for a while and there were one or two things I was hoping to leave for Tomoe with you. I’ll be in and out before you know it.’
I felt a thrill of satisfaction at finding her effortless lying such an easy trait to pick up.
There was a moment of silence as she struggled to find an excuse to refuse me. The sound of the buzzer acknowledged her defeat.
*
I’d come out of Akasaka Mitsuke Station and turned into a small grid of roads that looked like Kabukichō’s better-bred cousin. For what it lacked in its relative’s current of energy, Akasaka compensated in cash. Road-hugging limos disgorged reams of silk kimono, made-to-measure suits and carefully crafted hair. Even the girls were more refined when propositioning, and the thugs and touts better dressed.
I’d gone down the road and then cut into a yesteryear alley, walking until I came to a small restaurant with a miniature maple tree at its front. Beside it, a four-floor building exemplified the flipside to Tokyo’s utilitarian structures in a futuristic construction of wood, steel and glass.
An unembellished metal nameplate greeted me at the doorway.
TANZEN.
As one might expect, the offices of Japan’s leading cultural curators were impeccable – lustrous and modern yet finished with traditional hints. The receptionist was as superficially perfect as her surroundings, their rich lacquers concealing something rotten that lay underneath. She stood, bowed and smiled sweetly, looking as calm as one might expect of someone caught in a crisis that didn’t exist.
‘Ray-san, I’m so pleased we could finally meet,’ she lied. ‘I’ve heard so much about you, all of it good.’
I detested her person as much as I had her voice.
‘That’s very kind of you to say. Tomoe speaks of you in glowing terms too. Oh, she hasn’t been in touch since we last spoke?’
She showed no acknowledgement the game was now overtly covert.
‘I’m sorry, Ray-san, but I haven’t been able to speak to her. However, the organisers have told us the event’s been extended, so we’ll have to wait a while longer before we have the pleasure of her company again.’
She let her smile fade to allow a look of inquisitiveness play on her unblemished features instead.
‘But I’m being rude. You told me you were in a hurry to drop something off and get going, and here I am holding you up.’
I realised I hadn’t worked my plan through to its conclusion. I patted my pockets.
‘Um, I seem to have misplaced it. Oh, damn! I know – I left it in my other coat.’
‘Oh dear, I do hope it wasn’t anything important?’
‘Er, no, I’m not sure. I think it was a letter, or possibly some files. It was sealed so I don’t know. But it was with some other stuff that had Tanzen’s name and address on it – that’s how I knew where to come.’
It made a kind of sense, but less to me than it seemed to her.
‘Oh, that does sound like it may have been important. Why don’t I get someone to drop you home and they can pick it up?’
She started tapping at her iPad before she finished speaking.
‘No. I mean, that’s OK – I’ll send it in. I still have one or two things to do in town.’
She kept tapping.
‘But as I said,’ I continued. ‘I’m going away for a while and I really need to contact Tomoe before I go. I know you said the name of the organiser is confidential but it’s essential we speak.’
She stopped typing, looked up and smiled.
‘I’m afraid that’s impossible – we’re contractually obliged. Chōshi-san understands this perfectly. It’s just a part of the business we’re in.’
She was using her veneer of friendly politeness to scrape at my nerves.
‘But surely you have contingency plans for emergencies? What happens then?’
‘Is there an emergency?’
‘Yes.’
‘May I ask what it is?’ she asked when I said nothing else.
‘I’m afraid I’m unable to tell you – it’s private. But Tomoe would want it. I’m sure you understand.’
Our icy-smiled face-off was broken by the ping of the lift doors. I looked behind me to see two men: a massive, ugly, mean-looking monster, the equal of Kurotaki, the Takata-gumi thug I’d insulted before. This one’s sidekick was smaller, the kind of man you wouldn’t notice until he had a knife hilt-deep in your ribs.
‘Oh,’ she said brightly. ‘Here’s your driver.’
I had no reason to doubt his ability behind the wheel but I didn’t believe for a second that was the extent of his job.
She turned to them. ‘Thank you for coming so quickly. What a stroke of luck you were nearby.’
The big one grunted, although it was more the sound of a pride lion than a man, a sonic boom that would have carried miles had we not been in an enclosed space.
‘Yes, thank you,’ I faltered. ‘But I’m terribly sorry – we’d just agreed that you didn’t need to collect me. I’ve got a few things to do and we decided it would be best for me to bring in Tomoe’s stuff when they’re done.’
The monster gave no indication he heard me.
‘Get up,’ he ordered.
‘No really, thank you for the kind offer but I have an appointment I really must make.’
‘Well, thank you for coming, Ray-san. It was such a pleasure to meet you,’ the receptionist said warmly, adding to the number of people who seemed incapable of hearing anything I said. ‘These good gentlemen will take care of you now.’
Again, her mode of reference was a misnomer, a tacit acknowledgement she had game, set and match. I sat where I was, unable to move beyond a slight trembling and the preventative tightening of my sphincter.
‘Let’s go!’ the Beast barked as he wrenched me to my feet.
The devil incarnated in a blankly pretty receptionist smiled after me as I was manhandled towards the lift. Her expression would have had you assume a pleasant meeting had been concluded rather than the last rites recited before an execution walk.
The new beast guided me out of the building in a vice-like grip and tossed me into the back of a Toyota. I wondered what the blacked-out windows had prevented being seen in the past. What they were about to hide now.
‘Where to?’ he demanded, as he and the knifeman got in the front seats.
‘Takadanobaba,’ I stammered. ‘Near the station. I’ll direct you from there.’
My brain raced as we set off. To subdue my rising panic, I forced myself to think rationally and break the situation down. First I needed to be clear who my captors were. No one looked or behaved like that other than yakuza so there wasn’t much puzzling to do there. The next step
was to work out what they wanted. They’d already killed one person, possibly more. I’d been told to stop meddling and get out of the country. I hadn’t. The logical answer was they wanted to kill me too.
I decided I’d done enough clear thinking. I pulled the door handle and shunted myself to the side.
‘Oomphh.’
I grunted in pain as my shoulder slammed against the child-locked door. The yakuza broke from their conversation in front.
‘Sort him out,’ the Beast ordered gruffly.
Knifeman turned and swung in a single movement, my eyes catching up just as my field of vision was swallowed by his fist. A bright light blazed at the dull splat of his punch and my head snapped back and then lolled on my neck.
‘Try anything else and I’ll pull you out of the car and run over your fucking legs.’
He turned back. My head continued to roll like the nodding dog missing from the back shelf. I directed it against the window which I lowered slightly to let in some recuperative air.
A thought hit me with the cold blast. The receptionist had only called them when I told her I had something. They were after a letter or documents they thought I had. There must have been ends left untied from the disappearances, things they needed back. Things important enough for me to be kept alive. Things that might set Tomoe free.
Things I didn’t have.
It was essential they didn’t find out I didn’t have them. As I had about half an hour before they did, there was only course of action to take.
I groaned, leaned to the side and wound the window down further, as though to get more air to my throbbing head. It reached the bottom just after we took off from some traffic lights. As it did I launched myself out.
WWWWWAAAAAHHHHHhhhhhh … A car horn exploded near my head and then faded as it swerved to avoid me and continued the other way. I shook myself and looked up. The Toyota was screeching to a halt a hundred metres or so ahead. It must have had more time to accelerate than I had thought, which was lucky as I might have bottled it if I’d known we were going that fast. It was also fortunate because it gave me a head-start.
