“They hurt you!” I said, getting in the car.
“No, I sprained it skiing. Remember?” He put the car in reverse and executed an incredible turn on my dead-end street. I looked over my shoulder at my apartment window, and the figures in the window were waving: Richard and Mariko, after all.
“I’ve had this car for six months. Not bad, eh?” Hugh said, turning the radio on to J-WAVE, a pop station with English programming.
“You almost ran me over back by the Family Mart.”
“Don’t tell me you were the idiot running around in black in the middle of the night?” He looked at my parka. “So you were.”
“How did you find me?” I unwrapped the ice cream I’d almost forgotten.
“Mr. Ota gave me directions. I can’t believe you live here. This district is seedier than hell.”
“It’s poor but safe.” As we passed the liquor store, the door opened and, as if programmed, a drunk emerged, vomiting a plume of liquid onto the sidewalk.
“Not from a public health standpoint. Did you see that?” Hugh exclaimed.
“It’s no worse than the trains. Come on, tell me how you got out!”
“I’m ashamed to admit it now that the Getsu woman is dead—”
“Yogetsu,” I corrected.
“Right.” Hugh picked up speed and headed for the Shuto Expressway. “Because Mrs. Yogetsu was the witness with the most damning story against me, I suggested Ota dig around in her background. He found something interesting: her flower arranging licenses weren’t in order. She’d been passing herself off as a master teacher when she was only third degree. Whatever that means.”
“It means she was practically a rookie! I never liked her flower arrangements. I should have known something was off.”
“Mr. Ota told her that if I went to trial, her misrepresentation would be made public. With that in mind, she amended her previous claim that she’d overheard me with Setsuko in the bath.”
“She saved you.” The woman I’d disliked so much had come through. So what if it was chiefly to save her reputation?
“Mr. Ota sensed there was something else she wasn’t telling him or the police. After signing the new statement, Mrs. Yogetsu shot off for Tokyo, presumably to see you.”
“I was out that night, so she missed me. And then she was killed at my train station. If I’d spoken to her on the telephone, it might never have happened,” I confessed.
“It was tragic. I didn’t learn about it until my hearing this morning, when the prosecutor decided to let me go.”
“So you’re free and clear?” I was astounded.
“Not really. Captain Okuhara is still poking around for a way to bring me back in. If Yamamoto’s body is found with signs of foul play, I may be charged.”
“I’m so sorry,” I said. “For everything.”
“I wrote that you were forgiven.” His voice didn’t sound particularly warm.
“Yes, Mr. Ota sent me your fax. And did he tell you I went to Setsuko’s farewell ceremony?”
“I know all that. Hikari said you took an address book she’d planned to give Mr. Ota. I’d like you to hand it over. Your work is done, Rei. I don’t want you to feel driven by guilt or something as daft as the fact that we spent one night together.”
“Don’t talk to me like that!” So what I’d read in the fax, the distanced, cold prose, was true. A tense silence descended, broken only when Hugh took a handkerchief out of the glove compartment and handed it to me.
“You’re not worth tears.” I balled it up and threw it back at him.
“Thanks, but you’re still dripping ice cream on the car seat.”
I hadn’t seen the small chunk of strawberry ice cream that had fallen. I hastily wiped it up.
“So what’s in the address book?” He tried again.
“Names. I’m looking up the important people.”
“And why would you be better at it than my lawyer?”
“Because I’m finding people all the time. In fact, I already have her niece Mariko under my care.”
“What! How old is this child?” Hugh braked sharply to avoid hitting a minivan.
“Twenty-four. She’s staying in my apartment right now, if you want me to prove that she really exists—”
“I believe you,” he said grudgingly. “Tell me more.”
I recounted what I’d learned about Setsuko’s humble background and her few remaining relatives. When I got to the story of Mariko’s attack, he clucked disapprovingly.
“So is the niece really safe with you? You live in a building without a concierge, let alone any kind of security system.”