The Salaryman's Wife(103)
“I have a cold, damn it, and I didn’t move in, I’m just here picking up your laptop. I’ll have to bring it to you this afternoon—gosh, I’ve got to go now—”
“All right, then. Come as soon as you can and will you bring me some take-away? The hospital food is killing me. I complained to Mr. Ota about it, but he just brings me Japanese noodles.”
Talking about telephones made me recall my own answering machine messages.
“What happened at Setsuko’s travel agent?” I asked. “You were going to tell me something important before you were attacked.”
“Oh, that. It turned out the agent spoke very little English, so she handed over the folder to me with all the receipts. Setsuko paid for our rooms in advance using the Sendai credit card.”
“More fuel against Mr. Nakamura?”
“That’s not the point. I found something very interesting: a receipt for an unrestricted, one-way ticket to Dallas for use in the new year. A thousand dollar ticket issued in her maiden name and paid for in cash I assume she received from me.”
“Really!”
“I’m thinking that she obviously knew something disastrous was going down with her husband and the yakuza and the Eterna battery and wanted to get out.”
“Or she wanted to see her father,” I said.
“Possibly,” Hugh said grudgingly. “But there could be other men, too.”
Could there have been another man in Setsuko’s life? She had been young and beautiful, with a handbag full of cash. She had more opportunities than most women, including myself.
After hanging up, I moped around Hugh’s apartment for ten more minutes. I added the strawberries to the things I was bringing him and lumbered out the side entrance. On Roppongi Dori, the marquee of Mrs. Chapman’s hotel loomed bright and welcoming. Perhaps I could find an hour’s solace within. My work schedule wasn’t really as pressing as I’d told Hugh.
“Rei, let me turn off the exercise video, and I’ll be right down!” Over the house telephone, Mrs. Chapman greeted my surprise visit with delight. Minutes later, she stepped off the elevator in a turquoise velour jogging suit I’d seen at Mitsutan. Maybe she and Joe worked out together. How wonderful it would be to have a boyfriend with use of both legs.
“Honey, you’re crying!” Her arms went around me like comforting steel girders.
“I’m not.” I broke away.
“I haven’t had breakfast yet, have you?” Mrs. Chapman took one of my heavy shopping bags and tucked my free arm under hers.
“Yes, but I was hoping to spend some time with you.”
Mrs. Chapman led me out on the street and into a coffee shop, going straight to a quiet area in the back. She was a regular customer, I deduced from the way the waitresses chorused a welcome.
“Breakfast set?” A young girl wearing an apron and a cropped haircut very much like mine came up to serve us. She stared at me and giggled.
“Salad set, because of my diet. For two,” Mrs. Chapman ordered, not giving me a chance to warn her what was coming: a single slice of pale gold toast and a saucer of lettuce, tomato, and cucumber topped with mayonnaise.
“Inside the hotel they do the same thing at double the price,” she said, digging in with gusto when breakfast arrived.
“Are you still seeing Joe Roncolotta?”
“Yes indeed. But I’m worried about you! Where did you come from so early in the morning?”
“Hugh’s place.” Looking at her prim expression, I realized my mistake. “I mean, I went over to his apartment, but he wasn’t home.”
“The Japan Times says he’s in the hospital.”
“Yes. It’s a long story, none of it good.” The coffee here was bitter, tasted like it had been brewing for hours. I put the cup down and stared into its murky depths. “My roommate says that I always choose the hard road. I swear I didn’t want anything like this.”
Mrs. Chapman clucked and squeezed my hand in her coarse, larger one. “How bad is his injury?”
“It’s a mild fracture, but it will keep him off his feet for a long time. I’m bringing him some things today. There’s a feeling I have—” I stopped.
“What’s that, honey?”
“I feel like we were getting close to figuring out the why of Setsuko’s death, if not the who. But now Hugh’s in the hospital, I have to do it all myself and have so little time.”
“Joe and I can help you,” Mrs. Chapman chided. “Why did you turn down his invitation for drinks the other day? He was so hurt.”
I thought about how he’d invited me without her to the black-and-white party. I couldn’t let that out. Instead I said, “It’s a scandal to be seen with me, and I don’t want to trouble him anymore. Besides, I think I’m going to have to leave Tokyo anyway.”