“Let’s carry our drinks over. I already left money for the waiter,” I told Miyo.
“I’m so nervous. I know I won’t say anything, and you’ll get all the attention—”
“You walk ahead of me and you say the first line, remember?” I said under my breath as we started walking. “And after that, if you get tongue-tied, I’ll speak Japanese to tell you what to say.”
Miyo performed brilliantly. The fact was, that a girl as beautiful as she was needed to say only a few friendly things to make a man feel successful—and if there was a teasing quality to the talk, as I’d said, it was all the better. Miyo asked the blond if he was the snowboarder who’d fallen on his face in Hokkaido the previous week. After he was done laughing, he said that no, he hadn’t been there, but skiing in Hokkaido was something he hoped to do. The season was almost over, I said, mentioning that Miyo and I were getting ready for a scuba-diving vacation in Izu.
The blond one was called Archibald Weinstock and the dark one Ravindra Shah—Ravi for short. They’d both earned MBAs at Penn. Archie had been at Winston Brothers for two years, Ravi for one year. Their lives were so busy that they hadn’t had a moment to study Japanese; they couldn’t believe how good our English was.
“Have you had dinner yet?” Archie asked, smiling.
“Actually, we’ve just had a few appetizers,” I said. “But we intend to eat. Miyo loves steak, so I’m taking her out tonight because it’s her twenty-first birthday.”
A round of happy birthdays ensued. Before we knew it, Archie and Miyo were both ordering Japanese flat-iron steaks, and I was wavering between grilled asparagus and macaroni gratin.
“So little to eat?” Ravi asked, looking concerned.
“I’m a vegetarian,” I confessed.
“Really! I am, too. I just came here with Archie tonight because it’s close.” Ravi Shah had a nice accent—New Jersey tinged with something else. I had to smile at his dinner order; sautéed spinach, broccoli, asparagus, pumpkin puree, and the macaroni gratin.
“Why not add the mushrooms, potatoes, and onion rings?” I raised my eyebrows. “Then you’d have it all.”
“Ah, but I cannot eat anything that grows underground,” Ravi said. “That’s the problem.”
“Not to mention meat or fish,” Archie said. “Ravi has a hard time staying alive in Japan.”
“Are you a Jain?” I asked.
Ravi blinked. “Yes. I’m surprised you’ve heard of my faith.”
I bit my lip. It was a little unusual for a Japanese to know much about foreign religions. For someone from San Francisco, it was par for the course, but I wasn’t supposed to be American tonight. “In our jobs, we help many foreigners. Some are Jains.”
“Yes, I just helped a kind lady named Jane last week,” Miyo said.
Quickly, I explained to Miyo a bit about the Indian religion that held all forms of life reverent—even small insects, which could be accidentally killed if vegetables were pulled from the earth.
“You’re quite the interpreter,” Archie said, grinning. He was loosening up nicely, thanks to the martinis. But I had to watch myself, and give more talking time to Miyo.
“Just as Archie is to Ravi, Miyo, you’re my sempai. Please explain our job; you’ll make a much better effort than I can, as I have a lot to learn.”
“We help foreigners buy things,” Miyo said. “Everything from underwears to umbrellas.”
Both men laughed appreciatively, and I winked at Miyo. I’d taught her the line earlier, wanting her to sound both suggestive and innocent, at the same time. It had all come off seamlessly.
“I guess you could say we help people buy things, too,” Archie said, leaning a little closer to her. “Not underwears, but bonds.”
“How exciting! You must be very smart,” I purred.
Ravi looked at me a bit longer, and more skeptically, making me feel a bit uncomfortable. Obviously, my knowledge of Indian religions didn’t jibe with my charming naïveté.
“We have a customer from your firm, what is his name, Miyo?” I said, screwing up my forehead. “Kravis-san?”
“Kravitz? Are you talking about Warren Kravitz?” Ravi rubbed his hand across his chin, which was developing a very attractive five-o’clock shadow.
“Yes, that’s it. Miyo-chan, you said you met him, right?” I waited, half hoping Miyo would say something inflammatory, like he was a pain in the ass to take shopping.
“Oh, yes. He is actually our number one foreign customer!” Miyo smiled at me, almost making me forget how snippy she’d been when I’d asked about the Kravitzes before.
“Warren Kravitz does so well that he could shop all day and night, if he had the time,” Ravi said. “He’s head of the Japanese investment banking division. The year-end bonus he gets is the stuff of legend.”
“How much?” Miyo asked, and I quickly kicked her under the table. We didn’t want to give the impression that we were after the men for their money.
“How much time do you have to work at the firm to become a partner? That’s what Miyo was asking,” I said.
“Oh, God, I don’t know. Ten years?” Ravi said. “For Kravitz, it was faster.”
“And they usually recruit guys from the outside to take the really sweet spots. There’s a lot of movement within the banking community,” Archie said.
“You’d think that somebody working loyally within the company would be rewarded. That’s our Japanese thinking,” I said.
“You know what gets rewarded?” Archie said.
Both Miyo and I shook our heads.
“Dumb luck. A guy makes a risky trade or purchase, and it pans out nicely—well, he gets the bonus at year’s end. And then the whole gang goes to Seventh Heaven or Climax to celebrate.”
And Russian strippers would lap-dance all over them, but of course I wasn’t going to give away my knowledge of the seamier side of their lifestyle. It didn’t pay to sound jealous.
“I know better clubs than Seventh Heaven and Climax,” Miyo said, and the two bankers exchanged amused glances.
“We’d like to take you girls out after dinner,” Archie said. “The thing is, I have to go back to the office to make a call at nine. You two can come with us, if you wouldn’t find it too boring.”
“What do you think, Miyo?” I asked.
She blinked rapidly, as if unable to believe this wasn’t a dream. “I think it sounds—awesome.”
The guys smiled at her use of the phrase, and inwardly, I cheered.
33
I could barely keep my eyes open when I rolled into bed six hours later. We’d done the Winston Brothers office, where Miyo and I spun around on office chairs, trying to make Archie crack up while he made his serious phone call to the big boss in New York. Then we’d gone out to a rave at Cube 326, and after we’d all been thoroughly overheated, I led everyone out, pointing to a place I’d noticed in a nearby lane: an old-fashioned games parlor in Shinjuku, a place where you could sit and play go for hours, drinking sake and surrounded by a totally Japanese crowd.
It had done the boys good to get out of their element, to go to a couple of places that must have felt edgy because they were almost completely devoid of gaijin. Miyo had said a few things earlier that gave me reason to suspect she was excellent at go—in Korea, they call it baduk—so each of us paired with one of the men, trying to teach them the basics. But it was pointless. No matter how many times we explained the rules of how to capture the opponent by surrounding him, they missed good opportunities: Ravi because he seemed a bit distracted, and Archie because he was getting drunk.
As Ravi and Archie swayed their way into a cab, Archie declared that they’d never had such a wild evening with Japanese girls. In return, he insisted that the two of us come with them the following evening to the Tokyo Children’s Aid Ball.
I couldn’t have been more pleased, but I acted regretful, reminding Miyo that we both had plans. Her face fell, but then she caught on to my game. We let the boys plead long and
hard, and I made a call on my cell phone, a call that I made sound like a social date I was canceling, though I was actually just talking to my answering machine.
“I thank you for this special time,” Miyo had said, doing everything but hug me when we were saying good night at Shibuya Station. The boys had long since packed off in a taxi to their apartments in Ark Hills.
“I was happy to help you meet someone, Han-san. I think Archie really likes you.”
“Oh, call me Miyo, from now on. And, Rei-san—I’m sorry about the beginning we had. I just didn’t understand who you really were.”
If she did really know, what would she think? I shuddered, thinking about it as I took off my smoky clothes and jumped into the shower, because I didn’t want to contaminate the bed with the aromas of everywhere I’d been that night.
When I got out, the phone was ringing, and I picked it up as I toweled off.
It was Michael, sounding anxious. “You’ve been out of contact for hours.”
“Sorry, I thought I told you I had plans for the evening.” Guilt flashed through me, because I hadn’t messaged Michael when I’d stepped into the women’s lavatory several times that evening. But I’d been eager to get back, not to miss a bit of information the boys might spill.
“Are you alone?”
“Of course I’m alone.” I struggled into my nightgown double-time and heard the ominous sound of tearing silk. “What are you insinuating?”
“Nothing. I just wanted to—thank you for what you gave me earlier today—it was quite interesting. Since you’re alone, I’ll be able to talk about what I learned in the interview.”
Michael recounted how Warren Kravitz had jump-started Winston Brothers’ rise in Japan during the 1990s, owing to his talent at locating distressed properties and then matching them to rich American clients who needed a guiding hand overseas. The recent slight rebound in the Japanese economy had raised his antenna, Michael said; it had caused his sharp eye to focus on Japanese retail patterns, whereupon he noticed the problem with Mitsutan and duly reported it to our government.
“Why did he even complain in the first place?” I demanded. “I can’t help wondering if it’s because he wanted to start a bad rumor about Mitsutan, ruin the company’s value, and then help Jimmy DeLone buy it cheap.”
“There’s no indication, from my conversation or your tape, that Warren’s association with DeLone isn’t completely new business. DeLone’s been having trouble with the bank he was originally talking with in Japan, which was why he switched to Winston Brothers.”
“Really. And what motivation, then, does Warren Kravitz say drove him to tell tales to the government?”
“I think the exact word he used was ‘patriotism.’”
“Excuse me?” I smoothed my nightgown over my hips with one hand, checking myself in the mirror. Yes, I’d definitely torn the side. What a shame!
“He’s worried for our country. He sees Japanese companies engaged in unscrupulous business practices take over so many markets that once were ours—cars, cameras, televisions, videos. Now with China on the rise, Japan is more desperate. I have to agree with him.”
“But what’s the actual threat to our nation? Mitsutan’s not trying to take over Saks Fifth Avenue—or Supermart, for that matter.” I paused. “What did you make of Melanie’s mentioning Tyler?”
“I was startled,” Michael said. “I brought Tyler’s name up casually—one of the reasons I told Warren that I was in Japan, at the embassy, was to make sure all of Tyler’s possessions had been removed from his apartments, his bills paid, and so on. Warren chimed in that he’d met Tyler a few times because Melanie had used him as an extra man at some dinner parties, and so on.”
“And?”
“Well, he said that the kid talked to him about moving out of modeling and into investment banking, and Warren gave him a lecture on the academic qualifications needed. Of course, he had no idea Tyler was actually well educated.”
“Really? Where?”
“Princeton.”
“Oh!” This did surprise me, because I’d assumed, since he was so handsome, that he wasn’t very smart. I’d been guilty of prejudice. “Well, if Tyler had this conversation with Warren, and these dinner parties or whatever with Melanie, why wasn’t that all in the reports?”
“Probably because it happened quite close to the time of Tyler’s death. He might not have had a chance to report it—or perhaps he was embarrassed to, because he actually did want to make a switch. Civil servants don’t make that much, as I’m sure you know.”
I was actually making more, per month, now than I had ever made in my life—but of course, it was not a twelve-month-a-year job, just a temporary contract. And my last, if I didn’t succeed. I offered, “Perhaps Tyler thought there was something bad going on at Warren’s bank, and that’s why he wanted to go in. He might not have been as bad an agent as you and I have been thinking.”
“I’m doubtful of that,” Michael said. “After all, he got himself killed.”
“Because he was killed, he must have been stupid? Is that the way you think things work?”
There was a long silence. Michael finally said, “No, of course not. You’re right that Tyler gave his life for this investigation. I stand corrected.”
In a gentler tone, I said, “I think it makes us feel safer about our own situation here if we say the reason he died was that he made an error. But the fact is, there are unidentified people who are suspicious of me already, and God help you if you’re on their radar screen as well.”
“Don’t worry so much. I’m here to watch over you, okay?”
“Well, don’t do it too closely,” I said. “Tomorrow night I don’t want to see you, because I’m going to be in the vicinity of Warren and Melanie and even Jimmy DeLone.”
Michael interrupted me. “Sorry, but they’re not on your turf.”
“But it’ll blow my cover if I change my plans for tomorrow evening.” I explained how Miyo and I had met up with two young Winston Brothers employees who had asked us to accompany them to the charity ball.
“I got the feeling it was to save face with their boss. Apparently, Melanie wants a lot of Winston Brothers employees at the event. The unmarried ones are supposed to bring dates.”
“If you go, it’s purely social. Right?”
“I’m sure that I’ll enjoy myself, but I’ll keep my ears open.” I desperately wanted to go. If I canceled, Miyo might flounder; and besides, I was curious to meet Warren Kravitz.
“You’re not on assignment. I didn’t send you there. In fact, I don’t really want you to be there.”
“It’s just a double date. The guys think I’m a mild-mannered salesgirl.”
“Oh, really! Have they seen your navel piercing yet?”
“No, but that reminds me that there are some things I need to tell you.” I described the slashed coat in my locker and the sorry state of my bank account.
Michael sounded fairly subdued at the end of my recital. “Are you still wearing the coat?”
“No. I threw it away, just in case there was a bug in it.”
“I would have liked to examine it,” Michael said. “But never mind. I presume this means you’re going shopping again?”
“I didn’t mean to spend as much money as I have,” I apologized, “but I guess it goes with the territory. Fortunately coats are on sale, and Miyo lent me the money to buy one yesterday because I was short. I don’t have the receipt, but I do have the price tag. Can I use that in my expense report, minus the discount, of course?”
“Are you asking me for a cash advance?” Michael asked, instead of directly answering me.
“Well, yes. I want to pay her back as soon as possible.”
“So you just need money for the coat?”
“No,” I admitted. “Other clothes purchases are bound to come up, plus transportation, and I should really pay something toward all these bar and restaurant outings with Miyo and the guys, which should continue,
because I’m forging important alliances, don’t you think?”
There was a long silence. Then Michael said, “I’ve given you the right to manage your expenses, because you’ve been very trustworthy to date. I never imagined how high the totals would be. I don’t know how I’m going to even start to explain your ridiculous lingerie bill to our accounting head.”
“Did you forget our conversation about where I needed to be carrying the bugs? As you know, there’s a closet full of disguises in the apartment, but it did not include any bras, nor the right kind of pants with lots of pockets, and—and you know the rest. Everything I’ve worn has a purpose,” I protested.
Michael sighed and said, “I’ll have two thousand dollars wired to your bank account, but it probably won’t get there till sometime tomorrow. You may use whatever’s needed from that to pay for the coat. And as far as tomorrow evening goes, please understand that you are not on assignment. This means, don’t even think of asking me to recoup the cost of an evening dress.”
34
“Hungover?” Miyo whispered when we saw each other in the K Team’s office at ten o’clock sharp on Saturday morning. Mrs. Okuma was already at her desk, looking rather sourly at both of us, as if she’d figured out that something had changed in the K Team, but not for the better.
I whispered back, “A bit. You?”
“Couldn’t help it. What a good time!”
“And it was so nice of you to lend me the money for a new coat. I should have the money tonight to repay you.” I didn’t need to tell her that at home the previous evening, I’d run the bug-detecting equipment over every inch of the garment, just to make sure Miyo hadn’t slipped anything into it. The coat was cleaner inside than out, where—as I’d predicted—I already had a small stain from an overturned Kirin beer at the go parlor.
“Don’t worry about it.” In her next breath, she said, “What are you wearing tonight?”
“I have a black Azzedine Alaia bandage dress. I think I’ll wear that.” Thank goodness I’d packed the trusty old friend in my luggage.
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