by Joel Jenkins
“So what can I do?”
“I was wondering if you could see if there was a missing persons report filed. The name is Shinji Kuroyama.”
“Might take some time. I’ve got a lot on my plate at the moment.”
“Still busting yakuza heads?”
Hashimoto laughed. “As much as I can. You know how it is. Political influence comes cheap for those tattooed bastards.”
“Understood. You have my number, so just call me with whatever you can do.”
“Careful out there, Naka-chan. If this case has people following you, it could go deeper than you think. And you don’t have me watching your back any more.”
“I could say the same about you.” Kyoko chuckled. “Take care, Kacho.”
She ended the call and turned her attention back to the computer. Kyoko took another long drag on her cigarette and planned her next move. The bar advertised its opening as ten, and that would be the next place to check.
* * *
Walking through Shinsekai, Kyoko wore a tight, red dress that reached down to her mid-thigh. The smells of yakitori meat skewers lingered in the air from the small stands where people could grab a quick bite either before or after heading into the bar. Drunken businessmen stumbled out of bars and young women in the equivalent of prom dresses stood outside hostess bars, trying to entice potential customers.
Each building contained a display of brightly-lit logos. Every floor had one or two bars, sometimes three. She slowed her pace once she saw the Nanpa logo. A baby-faced guy with blond highlights in his spiked hair and wearing a suit approached her. “You’re looking very beautiful tonight.”
Kyoko faked a flirty smile. “Thank you.”
“How would you like to come up and have a drink with us? Lots of nice guys you can meet.”
“Which bar?”
“The one on the fifth floor.” He pointed at the sign. “Nanpa.”
Kyoko faked a giggle. “Sounds great.”
The youth smiled a toothy grin. He was likely twenty, but looked more like he was sixteen. Newer hosts usually had the duty of standing outside to attract customers. Working inside the bar was where the real money was made, off of commission on drink sales. “Come on up!”
They took the elevator up to the fifth floor and the boy pushed the door open to the bar. Music pumped through the speakers and a girl was singing a tone-deaf rendition of AKB48’s “Aitakatta.” He took her up to the front counter and the man behind bowed. He was a little older than the others, maybe late thirties.
“Irasshaimase!” he greeted. “The base charge is a thousand yen for one hour of all-you-can-drink. If you want to sing, it’s two thousand yen if you also want the all-you-can-sing package.”
“Just drinks, thank you,” said Kyoko and managed to fake a blush. “I’m not very confident in my singing voice.”
“Oh, come on! I’m sure you sound lovely!” said the boy who led her inside.
Kyoko giggled and waved a hand in front of her face. “No, no! Impossible!”
“Okay, so just the drinking course,” said the man behind the counter.
“Do you have a list of your hosts?” asked Kyoko.
The man nodded and reached under the counter. He handed her a black binder with the Nanpa logo on the front. Kyoko began flipping through the pages, examining each of the photographs. She compared them with the picture of Shinji she had in her mind. Passed through a few pages before she found him. The name under the photo was Shoki—it was common for hosts and hostesses to use fake names. She tapped the photo.
“He looks cute. Is he working tonight?”
The clerk froze for a moment and then responded with, “No, I’m sorry. He’s not here.”
She figured as much. But she chose to stay. Perhaps she could get some information out of some of the other hosts if she did. Kyoko smiled. “That’s okay, I suppose anyone will do.”
The man nodded to the boy who led her in. He bowed and left. The man came out from behind the counter and gestured into the bar. “Right this way, please.”
He led her past tables of women and the hosts laughing and drinking together. The bar was quite spacious. She was led to an empty table in the back. Kyoko slid onto the cushioned bench and folded her hands on the white table.
“What would you like to drink?”
“Plum wine.”
The man bowed and left. Kyoko looked around the bar. The various hosts were busy charming the women at their tables, encouraging them to drink more and to buy them drinks as well, trying to get them to sing karaoke. All of them looked very similar to the pictures of Shinji she found on the phone.
“Looks like tonight’s my lucky night!” The boisterous voice drew Kyoko’s attention. A man about twenty-five with shaggy black hair that was loaded with gel approached her table. His hair was practically molded into the shape of spikes that stretched from the left portion of his hairline down to just below his right eyebrow. His eyes were a sky-blue, which meant contacts. The black suit was perfectly tailored, with his white shirt open at the collar. He handed her a small glass filled with golden plum wine, the ice cubes clinking against the side. In his other hand, he had a highball, which Kyoko suspected contained just a few drops of whiskey and was heavily watered down with the club soda.
She put on her fake smile and dipped her head while accepting the drink. “Thank you!”
He slid onto the bench, pushing up against the side of her body, despite lots of open space, and draped his arm along the back of the seat. “So what’s your name, beautiful?”
“Asami.” The name of one of her favorite characters from a series of adventure novels. “And you?”
“I’m Go,” he said. “As in, ‘go, go, go! Drink more!’ “
She wanted to roll her eyes but kept her composure. “How long have you worked here?”
Go smirked and shrugged. “I can’t remember! What do you do, Asami?”
“I work in an office.”
“Haven’t seen you before. You new here?”
She nodded. “I transferred in the spring.”
“And just you tonight, huh? No friends?”
She faked a sigh. “I’ve been really busy, haven’t had a chance to make many friends yet.”
Go put on a disappointed look. “That’s too bad. But don’t worry, I’ll be your new friend!”
“Oh really?” she asked with a giggle.
The night continued on like that. Go was a pretty experienced host—he didn’t offer up much personal information on himself and he focused all discussion on Kyoko and her life. Whenever Kyoko tried to push for something personal, his response was clearly either a lie or he would redirect the question to her. She continued to play the part of a typical customer, but Kyoko found her patience waning. By the time she was on her third plum wine, she decided to push for more.
“I have a little bit of a confession,” she said.
Go smiled. “Ooooh, confession. I like the sound of that.”
“One of my co-workers told me about this place. She said there’s a great guy here named… oh what was it? Shoji… ? Shiro… ?”
“You mean Shoki?” asked Go.
“That’s it! But they said he’s not here. Do you know when he might come back?”
Go leaned back into the seat cushion, still as relaxed as ever. “Dunno. Think he quit or something. Haven’t seen him in a while.”
“Really? Why did he quit?”
Go’s eyes stared at the ceiling as he muttered eto… under his breath. “Sorry, no idea. Didn’t really know him that well, I just came here from another bar about three months ago. Ah, but you know who knows him?” Go turned his head and shouted at another table. “Oi! Ichiro! C’mon over here! Come say hi to a pretty girl!”
The host had his back to Kyoko and Go, but when he turned, Kyoko realized instantly who he was. She could see his bottle-blond hair a lot more clearly without the baseball cap and the suit certainly looked better on him than the tracksuit had. Ichiro
stood from his table and invited the two girls sitting with him over to Kyoko’s. For the moment, however, he didn’t seem to recognize her.
“You and Shoki were pretty tight, weren’t you?” asked Go.
He nodded. “Yeah, but why do you ask?”
Go motioned to Kyoko. “She heard he was the guy to come see.”
Ichiro took another look at Kyoko, but as he studied her more intently, his toothy grin drooped and his eyes bulged slightly. The only advantage Kyoko had was that he wouldn’t try to run in the middle of work.
“Whoever told you that must’ve come on my day off!” said Ichiro, following it up with a nervous laugh. Even the girls who were being entertained by his charms a few minutes ago now gave him a sideways look.
“I saw him once,” said one of the girls, wearing a sundress. “He was a lot of fun. But that was until she came in, then he pretty much jumped to her.”
“She?” asked Kyoko.
The second girl who had short hair and was dressed in jeans and a tank top with a light sweater nudged her friend and gave her a dirty look.
“Never mind, it was nothing,” said the first girl.
Kyoko nodded in understanding, making mental notes of everything Ichiro and the two women said. A silence fell over the group and Go tapped his knees impatiently, like a child with a short attention span who was given nothing to do. He clapped once, breaking the silence.
“I know!” He slammed the table twice to accentuate each word. “We need drinks! And we need karaoke! I’ll be right back!”
Go nearly jumped to his feet and ran to the bar master to grab the karaoke song selector and order another round for the table.
* * *
Kyoko left Nanpa after the second hour, paid her fee (including the charge for karaoke, which she had hoped to avoid), and took note of the bar’s closing time. She rented a private booth at a nearby Internet cafe and reclined in the chair for a few hours of sleep. The buzzing of her phone’s alarm woke her at four thirty and she returned to Nanpa.
While she lingered around the empty streets, now slowly filtering out the people who decided to close down the bar, she bought a can of ice coffee from a vending machine and sipped it, her eyes fixed on the building Nanpa was in.
One by one, the hosts filed out of the place. A few of them had customers hanging off them. Ichiro, however, was not one of them, but he was drunkenly stumbling just as much as they were.
“We’re gonna get a taxi, you wanna come?” asked Go, his arm around one of the girls who was sitting with Kyoko before she left.
“Nah, think I’ll walk it off,” said Ichiro, stumbling as he turned away. His arm flailed up in what Kyoko assumed was supposed to be a goodbye wave and moved down the street. Kyoko followed him, keeping her distance for a bit.
“Ichiro!”
He stopped and nearly fell over while attempting to face her. His glassy eyes fixed on her, his lips mouthing something. Finally, he pointed at her. “Hey… don’t I know you?”
Kyoko nodded and drew a cigarette. “Got a light?”
Ichiro chuckled and turned. He tried to run, but tripped and fell flat on his face. Kyoko sighed, put the cigarette back in her purse, and helped him up. She put his arm around her shoulders and wrapped her arm around his torso to try and keep him steady, leading him into one of the back alleys.
“Where we goin’?” he asked. “This… this isn’t the way home…”
Kyoko pushed him against the wall and he slid down against it until he hit the ground.
“D-don’t hurt me, lady… please…”
“Relax.” Kyoko knelt down in front of him. “I’m not gonna hurt you. I just want to know what you can tell me about Shoki. Or should I say Shinji?”
Ichiro pointed at her. “Hey… you aren’t supposed to know that…”
Kyoko slapped his hand and he let it drop. “You wanna tell me why you were following me today?”
“’Cuz Shinji’s my friend, okay? When I saw you, thought maybe you mighta known where he was. So I followed you. Then I got scared when you confronted me… so I ran.”
“The girls who were at the table with us. One of them mentioned another woman who was interested in Shinji. And then her friend shut her up. I get the feeling you know something about that, too.”
Ichiro shook his head. “Can’t tell you that.”
“Listen to me.” Kyoko grabbed his jaw with one hand and held it firm so she could look into his eyes. “Your friend is missing. Possibly in trouble. I can only help him if you work with me. Understand?”
“You’re hurting my face,” he said.
She released it and Ichiro stretched his jaw out, working the tension. “Okay, I’ll tell you. Shinji had a girl who came in. Older woman in her fifties or something. She threw money at him like you wouldn’t believe. Bought him gifts, everything. He told me she paid him for sex, too. But she’s the jealous type. And some of the girls who come to Nanpa… if they don’t do what she says, it could mean trouble for their jobs. Maybe even worse.”
“Why would she threaten their jobs?” asked Kyoko.
Ichiro sighed. “Because she’s Suzume Tanaka.”
The mention of that name almost knocked Kyoko over. This case had now gotten much bigger than she initially imagined it would. Most of the women who visited the club were fuzoku themselves—employees in the red light district. And if the Tanakas were involved, that meant things were about to get much more difficult.
There was only one word to sum up Kyoko’s feelings, and she uttered it in a hush breath: “Kuso.”
* * *
Chief Inspector Takeshi Hashimoto stood outside the hospital smoking a cigarette. His creased face broke into a smile when he saw his protégé walk towards him, a cup of coffee in hand and sunglasses on her face. Kyoko had just barely fallen asleep when Hashimoto’s call came.
“Naka-chan,” he said. “You look—”
“Don’t bother, Kacho,” she said.
“Rough night?”
“In more ways than one.”
“Oh yeah?” asked Hashimoto, followed by a chuckle and then, “so what’s his name?”
“I’d slap you, but I’m too exhausted,” said Kyoko. “What’s up?”
Hashimoto stubbed out his cigarette in the standing ash tray. He jerked his head toward the door. “Come with me.”
Kyoko walked by his side into the hospital. Despite Hashimoto’s age, he hadn’t let himself get soft like most in his position. Although his hair had gotten a bit white and he now needed glasses, he was still as tough as he was in his days serving with the Jieitai, or Japan Self-Defense Forces. And it was from him that Kyoko learned everything she knew about investigation.
Hashimoto walked up to the elevator and pressed the down button. “I looked into your missing host. And guess what I found?”
“Declared a runaway?” asked Kyoko.
The elevator arrived with a ding and they stepped inside. “That’s what I thought I would find, but not even that.”
“Then what?”
Hashimoto pressed the button for the basement and the doors closed. “Missing persons division has absolutely no record of any report filed about Shinji Kuroyama.”
After what Ichiro had told her last night, Kyoko couldn’t say this came as much of a surprise, but she kept quiet. Years of experience taught her that Hashimoto had more to reveal and once the elevator reached the basement, he proved her fears correct. The doors opened and she took off her sunglasses, staring at the sign on the wall directly across from the elevator. Three kanji were written on it: morgue.
Hashimoto led her inside and a medical examiner stood in the corner, arms crossed. Lying on the slab in the center of the room was a young man whom Kyoko clearly recognized. It was none other than Shinji Kuroyama.
“I’m sorry about this, Naka-chan,” said Hashimoto.
Kyoko approached the body, staring at the pale skin. She glanced to the medical examiner. “Could you give us a moment?”
He bowed and left the morgue. Kyoko watched him leave and then looked down at Shinji’s lifeless face. “I think this is starting to make sense.”
“Granted I don’t know a whole lot about this, but can you fill me in?”
“Kacho, if someone wanted to erase the record of a missing persons report, what would they have to do?”
“They’d have to have gotten to someone inside the department, obviously.”
“Right, but how thorough are the records? Have they all been computerized yet?”
Hashimoto scoffed. “You know how long it takes for things to change around here.”
“So it’s possible that a person with leverage over somebody in the department could make a record disappear?” asked Kyoko.
“Possible, yes. Not necessarily likely, though. You’d need to be talking about someone with some considerable influence.”
“Someone like Suzume Tanaka?”
Hashimoto sighed. “I know you didn’t just name Ryunosuke Tanaka’s wife as a possible factor in this case.”
“Last night, I went to the bar Shinji worked at. One of his friends told me that Shinji had become something of a kept boy for Suzume. She was buying him gifts, paying him for sex, and apparently, she’s a bit of a jealous type.”
Hashimoto crossed his arms. “So you think Suzume Tanaka, who is married to one of the most powerful yakuza bosses in the city, was having an affair with this host, and then got jealous of his other clients? Then what? She had him killed?”
“Or maybe her husband found out and had him killed. Then once Misaki Kuroyama filed a report about her brother’s disappearance, it was seen to that the record disappeared,” said Kyoko.
He stepped close to her and lowered his voice. “Stop now.”
“What?” she asked.
“You were hired to find the kid, and you have,” said Hashimoto. “But if you start investigating the Tanakas, I can’t watch out for you.”
Kyoko scoffed. “Since when are you scared of going after someone, Kacho?”
“Since it raised the possibility that I’d lose the closest thing I have to a daughter,” said Hashimoto. “If you go after them, I don’t think I can protect you. Just drop it. Please.”
