The Salaryman's Wife(50)
“Fujita-san? Thank you for coming. Have you spoken to Arae-san?” he said softly, not at all his usual manner.
“Eh to…” I hedged.
“Well, please see her about what to do. The toilet room needs to be cleaned up, fresh soaps and towels set out…”
If I were a Sendai employee, I’d obey him without question. Maybe this was some sort of test. I murmured my agreement and kept bowing until he turned on his heel. When Hikari had run off to the kitchen to take care of responsibilities, I had thought it strange. Now I understood the reality of O.L. Hell.
I found the powder room in the hallway near the front door. Rummaging below the sink, I came up with a powdered cleanser. Just behind the toilet was a little brush in a stand decorated with a snowman. I knelt to dislodge the brush and was drenched by a jet of water that shot up from the center of the toilet.
Water continued to spray upward as I sprang back, realizing I’d set off the toilet’s bidet function. I found the STOP button on the side of the seat a few seconds too late. The floor, cabinet, and walls were sprayed with water. Karen’s suit, too.
I mopped it all up with the three tiny towels Mr. Nakamura had asked me to replace and cast about in vain for fresh towels. Someone knocked on the door and I knocked back, signaling my occupation.
“Rei?” Hikari’s voice at the door led me to crack it open at last.
“I’ve created a flood here,” I said needlessly as she looked in and gasped.
“People have been noticing you!” Hikari moaned. “Miss Arae asked me who you were. I told her you were from the daughter of somebody in Mrs. Nakamura’s tea society, but she heard from somebody else that you were a Sendai O.L.!”
“Who’s Miss Arae?” I was lost.
“Miss Arae is head of the secretarial group. She is talking to Mr. Nakamura right now. I’ll get the coats. We’ve got to get out.”
Hikari and I jogged down the cul-de-sac slowly because of our high heels and caught a taxi on the main road. Once inside, Hikari pulled a small red leather book out of her handbag. “Setsuko’s telephone book. I found it in the kitchen.”
I flipped on the taxi’s dome light and began leafing through tiny pages filled with handwritten kanji. “Thanks. I can follow up on anyone who looks interesting.”
“Don’t you want me to look at it first?” Hikari sounded crushed.
“Well, I’m sure I have more time to work on it than you. Maybe I should go through it myself.” I didn’t trust her to know the things I wanted to find.
“Really? I heard you had to have the autopsy translated.”
“Well, medical language isn’t my thing, but personal names are easy. I’ve studied kanji for years.” Not very successfully, but she didn’t need to know that.
“May I see the book once more?”
“Sure.” I handed it back, thinking that I couldn’t believe we were fighting over it. Maybe we were fighting about something else.
She returned the book after a minute and I slipped it into my purse.
“It’s kind of you to lend it to me,” I said, trying to make up for my rudeness. “You must be very fond of Hugh to go to this trouble.”
Her face flushed. “Not so fond. Not fond enough to be stupid.”
“That makes two of us.” Yet, as we lurched over the pitted road leading to the train station, I doubted myself.
14
Mariko was going to be one in twelve million, if she had stayed put within Tokyo city limits. I spent Wednesday searching through Setsuko’s book without luck. Neither was she among the many Ozawas listed with Tokyo directory assistance. Thinking it over, I concluded that she might have married and changed her name, or might have no telephone at all.
Mr. Ota called to get a report on how the tsuya had gone, and I asked immediately for the latest on Hugh.
“Things are proceeding. While I was visiting, the British consul made a visit to ensure his conditions were adequate. We all had a chance to talk.”
“Do you think he’ll get out? The two day period is up today.”
“The police chief in Shiroyama is keeping him longer. There’s a legal loophole he’s using while he tries to gather evidence.”
“Can’t the consul help?”
“The British consul cannot supersede the Japanese police. By the way, what’s this about your withholding the address book? Miss Yasui could have had it translated in a matter of hours.”
“I’m using it for my research,” I said, although I’d only made out half the names so far. “If you want me to give it up, have Hugh confirm it. I’m not giving it up until then.”