Fallen Angel (9781101578810)

by Patrick, Jonelle

  She reluctantly explained she was worried about Coco’s relationship with Hoshi. All she’d done was help Kenji gather some evidence that would help drive a wedge between the host and her friend.

  “Evidence? What do you mean?” he demanded, wrapping the towel around himself.

  Backed into a corner, Yumi gave him an abbreviated version of her visit to Club Nova.

  “That’s what you call ‘not being involved’?” Ichiro faced her accusingly. “Not only are you mixed up in a sordid police investigation, your friend—who makes her living drinking and entertaining men at a hostess club—talked you into wasting money on gigolos in the most disreputable part of Tokyo.”

  “It’s not like that,” Yumi protested.

  He began to pace. “I never asked where you went on the nights we weren’t together. I even defended your choice of friends to my parents!”

  “What friends?”

  Ichiro flung his hands toward the ceiling, exasperated. “Those people you grew up with. The hostess. That policeman.”

  Was that why he’d been bent out of shape earlier when she’d arrived for dinner, still wearing her interpreting uniform? First her job, now her friends?

  “Is that what this is about? Because Coco didn’t play tennis with the crown prince’s cousin, you think I should stop being her friend?” She jumped up, gathering her clothes. “I saw the way you treated her when she came through the receiving line at the kimono event. Like she was a…a…like she was nobody.” She began pulling on her stockings, her skirt. “Well I’m nobody, too. Did your parents say the same thing about me?”

  “No! You’re different. They like you. Really.” He raised his chin defiantly. “And I didn’t give them a choice. You’re the one I decided to marry. Once I made that clear, they—”

  “They gave in?” Yumi looked at him, stung. She picked up her blouse and put it on.

  Ichiro crossed the room and grabbed her by the shoulders. She shook him off and turned her back to him, buttoning her shirt.

  “Yumi, cut it out. I’m not saying you can’t be friends with them, it’s just that…you know you belong with me. With people whose world is bigger than Japan, not whose greatest concerns are which color nail polish to buy or whether to eat soba or curry rice for dinner. Your friend Coco will be perfectly happy if she never owns a passport. She’ll spend her life with your policeman friend or some moonstruck customer who falls for her at the Queen of Hearts. You’re different. Loyalty is admirable, but people grow up. Sometimes it’s time to move on.”

  Zipping her skirt, Yumi straightened, staring at the wall. Then she turned to look him in the eye. “I hope I never choose my friends based on what people will say. When I moved back here in third grade, kids bullied me because I grew up in America and could barely read Japanese. Coco stood up for me, even when some of her old friends made fun of her. She said friends like that weren’t worth having.”

  She gathered up her phone and purse and walked out.

  Chapter 45

  Thursday, November 14

  11:30 P.M.

  Yumi

  Yumi stood outside the building in the glow of the flickering pink neon spelling out “Satellite of Love.” She closed her eyes, tired of arguing with Ichiro, tired of worrying about Coco, tired of wrestling with her feelings for Kenji. A trio of office ladies walked by, tipsily gossiping about the recent breakup of their manager’s marriage. A disheveled salaryman passed them going the other direction, stopping to ogle them wistfully before continuing his trudge toward the station.

  Her phone chimed. Text. Who was luv_luv_shinyaxo@docomo.co.jp?

  Did you get Coco's message? Will you help?

  Then she saw the unread e-mail. Coco.

  Date: Thurs, 14 Nov, 10:23:34

  From: cocochan@docomo.co.jp

  Sub: Help!

  I heard the police are trying to arrest Hoshi! Shinya’s going to text you. I told him I was sure you’d help.

  What? Kenji moved fast. How could the police already be so sure? Yumi felt a twinge of discomfort. Hadn’t he said the fingerprints she’d tricked Hoshi into giving her wouldn’t be admissible in court? He wouldn’t use them to fake evidence, would he? The Kenji she’d known since third grade would never…but what about the Kenji who was now an elite career officer, the Kenji who’d already decided Hoshi was guilty? Maybe he had turned into the kind of person who would cut corners if he wanted something badly enough.

  Not that she was any better—she’d helped him do it. Her words to Ichiro came back and slapped her in the face: the kind of friends who pressured you to quit hanging out with people they didn’t like weren’t worth having. She imagined the look on Coco’s face if she ever found out Yumi had helped get Hoshi arrested. Shamed, she remembered that her friend had even paid her cover charge that night. She texted Coco, asking for details about Hoshi’s situation and waited for a reply.

  Nothing.

  She replied to Shinya’s text and suggested they meet. The Satellite of Love Hotel wasn’t far from Club Nova.

  Ten minutes later, a pigtailed waitress was chirping “Irasshaimase!” as Yumi stepped through the door at Jonathan’s Family Restaurant in Shinjuku. Open twenty-four hours, the café was filled with a mix of salarymen gulping down coffee to sober up before facing their wives, and mizu shōbai workers still in their working uniforms, but with their professional personas switched off. The “schoolgirls” and “nurses” who’d been the objects of steamy desire an hour ago now looked like ordinary working girls who’d just punched the clock, drinking tea and forking up “American” food as they complained to each other about their jobs.

  Yumi spotted Shinya smoking moodily at a table next to the windows, staring out at the dark street as clinging couples and knots of revelers passed by on their way to love hotels or yet another bar. His streaked hair was still perfectly arranged, brushing his shoulders in artful spikes, but there was a scrubbed-looking spot on the collar of his black silk suit and a corresponding lipstick stain on the white shirt beneath. In the restaurant’s relentlessly bright lights, she could see smudges of fatigue beneath his eyes. A glass of neon-green melon soda stood before him, along with a plate that used to have two doughnuts on it.

  “That’s dinner?”

  Stubbing out his cigarette, he smiled and said, “More like a midafternoon snack. Thanks for coming, Yumi-san. Have a seat.”

  She hesitated. A pair of salarymen walked by, peering into the restaurant and checking out the customers as they passed. What if someone recognized her, sitting with a guy who was obviously a host? She didn’t want to give in to Ichiro’s demands, but it didn’t make sense to pour gasoline on the flames.

  “Um, Shinya? If you don’t mind, maybe we could go somewhere not so, uh, conspicuous?”

  The host glanced up at the men outside, now nudging each other and staring at a table of “flight attendants” at the next table.

  “Sure,” he said, scooping up his check.

  “What’s going on?” Yumi asked as they turned into a dark side street and passed the everything-over-rice restaurant, its walls plastered with pictures of the hundred combo bowls on offer. “Coco’s message said the police want to arrest Hoshi.”

  Shinya sighed and shook a cigarette from his pack. He told her that Detective Nakamura had been waiting outside Club Nova when it opened. Hoshi wasn’t scheduled to come in until later, so while he waited, he’d questioned Shinya about the night Cherry Endo died.

  “I told him Hoshi dropped me off and took care of me because I was really drunk, then he spent the night with one of his customers.”

  “He what?”

  “I know. Hoshi’s the one who taught me that giving in to a customer who wants sex is a big mistake. As soon as they get what they want, they lose interest and move on.” He cupped his hand around his cigarette and lit it. “Hoshi broke all his own rules when he asked me to tell Detective Nakamura he was at Miho Yamaguchi’s apartment for the rest of the night. The thing is…” A worr
y line creased his forehead. “I know he’s lying. That’s not what happened.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’re Coco’s best friend, right? I mean—” He stopped and searched her face. “—if I tell you something, you won’t tell the police, will you?”

  “Why would I do that?” She hoped he couldn’t see her flaming cheeks in the dim glow of the nearby love hotel sign.

  “I’m just not sure whose side you’re on. You seem to know Detective Nakamura pretty well.”

  “We were classmates in third grade, that’s all.”

  Shinya gave a short laugh. “Yumi-san, you’re a nice girl, but you’re a terrible liar. I saw your face that first night he walked into the club. I wasn’t so great at school, but I’m an expert at knowing what it means when a girl looks at a guy like that.”

  She turned away, embarrassed. Two slightly unsteady men came out the front door of the hostess club down the block, laughing with a pair of well-endowed girls in shimmering gowns.

  “We don’t have a relationship. Not that kind, anyway.” Yumi tried to ignore the little stab of pain that went with saying that. She looked Shinya in the eye. “Coco’s my best friend. Tell me why you don’t think Hoshi went home with his customer.”

  “Because Cherry-san was with us. After he made sure I was okay, he took her home.”

  “What?”

  He drew on his cigarette, pulling the burning ember toward him in the dark. “When she came into the club that night, she was really upset. Hoshi was crazy busy, so I sat with her. She’d just had a bad time with a customer, had the bruises to prove it. By the time Hoshi got to her table, it was nearly closing time and he felt bad, so he offered to take her home. She waited in his car while he made me drink half a dozen Pocari Sweats and get into bed. I know I was pretty out of it, but when I got up to close the window, I saw them drive off together.”

  “Do you think Hoshi had something to do with her death?”

  “No. It doesn’t make sense. Cherry was one of his best customers. He’s going to have to scramble to stay in the top five without her. Why would he kill her?”

  A black car pulled up to the club and stopped in front of the businessmen. Both hostesses bowed as one of the men turned to get in. As he folded himself into the backseat, his companion glanced past him at Yumi and did a double take. She quickly stepped backward into the shadowy doorway behind them, her heart pounding.

  It was the Mitsuyama Corporation CFO. She’d met him Tuesday night at the kimono event.

  “Yumi-san?”

  “That guy is someone who works with my future father-in-law. If he recognizes me…”

  Shinya poked his head out and glanced toward the Queen of Hearts, then opened the door behind her and pushed her through as the black car rolled past.

  Chapter 46

  Thursday, November 14

  12:00 midnight

  Yumi

  “Shinya! What are you doing?” They stood in a dim lobby presided over by a sign in gothic lettering proclaiming it the Hotel Marquis. “This is a love hotel! What if he saw me go in here with you?”

  “Relax. When I last looked, one of those hostesses was straightening his tie, and trust me, he wasn’t thinking about you. In a few minutes I’ll go out and make sure he’s gone.”

  Yumi couldn’t afford to share Shinya’s optimism. The CFO could be headed down the alley toward the Hotel Marquis right now. As much as she hated to admit it, Ichiro had been right: She could no longer walk around a place like Kabuki-chō unnoticed. She looked around the lobby. This wasn’t like the love hotels she’d been to with her fiancé. It was darker, almost dungeon-like, with its flagstone floor, faux-stone walls, and flickering electric “candle” sconces. Pictures of the available rooms were displayed in secluded nooks so patrons could choose with privacy. There was no cashier, just an automated payment machine on the way out.

  Yumi crossed the lobby and ducked into one of the cubicles. Busy night—all the photos on the room selection display were dark except room 601. She pushed the button to reserve it, and the light behind it winked out.

  “What are you doing?” Shinya cried, hurrying up behind her.

  “Don’t get the wrong idea.” She gave him a withering look as she picked up the key. “I want to hear what really happened the night Cherry died, but that guy who works with my fiancé could be coming through the door any minute. We need privacy, and that’s what this place sells.”

  Shinya followed her to the room, pulling the door shut behind them.

  Oh no. She hadn’t even glanced at the picture before pushing the button. The Hotel Marquis had clearly been named after the Marquis de Sade. Manacles snaked over a leopard-fur coverlet from all four corners of the king-sized bed. The only other place to sit was a strange chair that not only looked uncomfortable, it was outfitted with straps and buckles. A vending machine in the corner displayed a collection of whips and masks in addition to the usual sex toys and novelty condoms.

  Shinya tried to hide his embarrassment by busying himself at the bedside panel, turning up all the lights, while she marched over to kill the TV pulsing with a teaser for Naughty Night Nurses. Neither wanted to get near the scary chair, so Yumi perched at one end of the bed, while Shinya sat back against the leather headboard, legs stretched out in front of him. He opened the room service menu, but his eyes widened and he hastily slapped it shut, shaking a cigarette from his pack instead. “You mind?”

  “No. Go ahead.” Yumi pushed the nearest handcuff out of the way and it slithered to the floor with a clunk.

  “So you think because Hoshi needed Cherry’s business, he didn’t kill her,” she said, picking up the discussion where they’d left off. “Why do the police suddenly want to arrest him?”

  “They found his fingerprints in her apartment.” Shinya flicked his lighter. “And that detective asked me all kinds of crazy stuff. Like if Cherry was pregnant. Wanted to know if I’d seen signs she liked to hurt herself. Then he asked a bunch of questions about Hoshi, like how old he is. And his birthday.”

  “Did you tell him?”

  “That stuff isn’t secret—Manager-san showed him how to find it on our club’s home page.”

  “Why would Hoshi’s birthday be on the Club Nova website?”

  He reddened slightly. “Customers like to give us gifts, so the club makes it easy to find out when our birthdays are. You’ve seen the page with pictures of us and our weekly rankings, right? It’s like a high school yearbook, except when you click on, say, my picture, a page comes up that tells you I’m blood type O, my birthday is December twenty-fourth, I like women who have a good heart and a nice smile, and so forth.”

  “Like, your hobby is horseback riding?” She laughed.

  Shinya looked a little sheepish.

  “Why lie?”

  “It’s not lying, it’s…selling.” Shinya pulled the bedside ashtray closer. “What women want from us is to be admired. To be desired. A woman wants to believe her shimeisha finds her attractive, so she looks for a host who likes the things she likes about herself. If I was totally honest when I answered that question about my favorite women’s body part, I’d say what really winds my clock is long legs. The problem is, not many Japanese women have long legs, so if I say that, they’ll think they don’t have a chance. But pretty much every girl believes she has a good heart and a nice smile. When women walk into Club Nova, they’re looking for fantasy, but it has to be fantasy they can believe.”

  “Why lie about something like your birthday, though? You weren’t really born on Christmas Eve, were you?”

  “I just followed my sempai’s advice. Hoshi suggested I choose the second most romantic day of the year.”

  “Why not the first?”

  “He already took Valentine’s Day.” Shinya tapped his ash.

  “Why did your manager show Detective Nakamura the information on the website when he knew it wasn’t true?”

  Shinya took a drag and blew the smoke toward the
ceiling. “You ever wonder why guys become hosts?” He frowned, contemplating the burning end of his cigarette. “It’s a good way to make a lot of money if school wasn’t your thing and you want to set yourself up in business while you’re still young. Taiyo wants to go back to his hometown and buy the land next to his family’s farm to grow organic tomatoes. Wataru wants to open his own ramen shop. But some get into hosting because they have debts they can’t pay off any other way. Or they’ve got a police record that keeps them from getting a regular job. Or they’re running from something.” He made the end of his cigarette glow. “In Kabuki-chō you can reinvent yourself. New name, new look, new background, new birthday. If you want to disappear and start over, this is a good place to do it.”

  “And you think Hoshi…?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve never asked. But I think he might have a police record. How else would Detective Nakamura know that the fingerprints he found in Cherry’s apartment were Hoshi’s? He must have matched them to something.”

  Guilt returned like a lump of lead. Yumi knew exactly where Kenji had gotten that match.

  Shinya smoked in silence, then took a final drag on his cigarette and stubbed it out. “The thing is, Hoshi’s more than just my sempai. I really owe him. Halfway through high school my dad lost his job and my family fell apart. I was on my own from the time I was sixteen, dropped out of school and started doing stuff, well, stuff I’m not proud of. One night I was breaking into a car and the cops grabbed me. They were handcuffing me when this stranger walks up and says, ‘Hey, little brother, don’t you ever get tired of pranking my car?’

  “Hoshi spun this whole story about how he was my big brother and breaking into his car was a game we played, and they let me go. He found me a job with his friend who manages the Jackrose store, then a year ago he got me this job at Nova. The amazing thing is, it really was his car. I was trying to rip him off, and he saved me from getting arrested. For no reason. I asked him why, but all he said was, ‘You were just a kid. That’s not a crime.’ I was stealing and fighting and living hand to mouth—if Hoshi hadn’t stepped into my life, it was only a matter of time before I landed in a gang or prison or both.”