“He’s in hospital, but he’ll make a full recovery, according to the doctors.” Charlie could see the relief in her eyes and in her body language as she processed the information. “Can I ask how well you know Rob? I’ve been trying to reach his family back in Canada and haven’t been having much luck.”
She looked at the card he had handed her and then back at Charlie. “If Rob’s in hospital, then what are you doing here?”
“He asked me to drop by his place and pick up some things,” he said, taking the key from his pocket and showing her, thinking he was telling the truth, sort of. She seemed to make a decision and then pointed down the hall toward Lepage’s apartment.
“I’m just down the hall from Rob’s. Why don’t you come in, instead of us discussing this out in the hall?”
“Sure, thank you.” He followed her past Lepage’s door, noting that she was across the hall and a few doors down, at the far end. She opened the door and the lights in the entrance came on automatically, revealing that Farnsworth was somewhat less of a neat freak than Lepage.
“I’m afraid it’s a bit of a mess. I had some friends over last night and the cleaning lady hasn’t been round yet.” She kicked aside a jumble of mismatched footwear and plucked a few empty glasses from various surfaces as she made her way through to the living room. By the looks of things, she had hosted quite a party. “Maybe we’d better go in the kitchen.”
“You should see my place,” Charlie said, trying to put her at ease. He noticed the apartment was quite a bit smaller than Lepage’s and any view was largely obscured by a residential tower that dwarfed the building they were in.
“Cup of tea?”
“Sure.” Charlie smiled. He hated English tea, but refusing would be rude, and he knew how seriously the Brits took their tea. “I appreciate you taking the time to talk to me like this.”
“It’s no trouble.” She filled the kettle and pointed to the little table for him to take a seat. A moment later, she set a tray down in front of him and sat opposite as she waited for the kettle to boil. “So, what happened to Rob? What kind of accident was it?”
“A car crash.”
“When?”
“About ten days ago.”
She winced. “And he’s been in hospital since?”
“Yes.” He sensed she was preoccupied with something, but he wasn’t sure what. He decided to try to find out. “Do you know him well?” he asked.
“Maybe not as well as I thought, if he’s been in hospital for ten days and it hasn’t occurred to him to get in touch. I could have brought him some —”
“I should tell you, Ms. Farns—” he began.
“It’s Elizabeth, please.”
“Elizabeth, right. Rob has a head injury and his memory has been impacted, so if he hasn’t been in touch, he’s got a good reason.”
Her hand went to her mouth again. “Listen to me, thinking of myself. How bad is it?”
“He’s got some amnesia, but the doctors are optimistic that he’ll make a full recovery.” He let her digest that information for a moment, while he tried to think of another way to phrase the same question he had already asked twice, the answer to which was key to knowing whether he was dealing with a casual acquaintance or someone who might shed real light on Lepage’s life, maybe even a family contact. “Can I ask what your relationship with Rob is?”
“We’re friends,” she said, pulling her hair out of the elastic that held it in place and fluffing it out as it fell to her shoulders. “We were more than that for a while, a couple of months back, but we’re just friends now.”
“I assume you met because of your proximity?” He gestured to the hall, in the direction of Lepage’s apartment.
“The only two Westerners in the building, as far as I can tell,” she said, with a shrug and a smile. “It was only a matter of time before we got to know each other. I wouldn’t want you to think badly of me,” she added. “But I suppose we had a little fling. We’re both unattached and Rob’s a good-looking guy and a lot of fun.” Her smile faded just a little. “Anyway, we stayed friends … afterward.”
“Did you socialize with any of his work colleagues, or other friends in Tokyo?”
“He didn’t talk much about his work — I know he was in banking, as am I, but our paths didn’t cross professionally. I think he was making a lot more money than me,” she added, with another smile. “I never met any of his colleagues, though.”
She got up in response to the whistle of the kettle.
“Did he ever mention his family? Or his hometown? Anything like that?” he asked, as she rummaged in one of the cupboards, causing an avalanche of little cardboard boxes and metal tins containing a wide assortment of teas.
“Honestly, you must think I’m such a slob,” she said, picking through the boxes on the counter while Charlie got up and collected the tins from the floor.
“Not at all.”
She smiled and pulled her hair out of her face as she leaned on the counter. “Not like Rob — have you been in his place?”
He nodded. “Not much out of place over there, that’s for sure.”
“Always seemed a bit … I don’t know, sterile to me. Which I always found odd because Rob’s not like that himself; he’s really quite a warm person when you get to know him. Herbal okay?”
“Sure.” Charlie regained his seat. He waited for her to bring the pot over before trying again.
“I’ve really struck out in terms of trying to connect with Rob’s family back in Canada …”
“Sorry, I didn’t answer your question. No, he didn’t talk about Canada much and never mentioned his family. I don’t know if he had any siblings or anything like that, I’m afraid.” She poured her tea into a mug. “Listen to me prattling on.… How is Rob? You said he’s expected to make a full recovery?”
“That’s what his neurologist says, and he has been making steady improvement since coming out of the coma.”
“A coma! That’s more serious than I thought.” She frowned. “I have to go see him. Where is he?”
“I’m sure he’d like to see you,” he said, wondering if Lepage would even remember her. He had to believe, though, that intimacy with the Lycra-clad beauty sitting across from him would be something that would be difficult to forget, all things considered. “He’s at Tokyo Medical University Hospital in Shinjuku.” He fished out his BlackBerry and pulled up the contact number for the fifth floor reception desk. “They seem to be pretty flexible with visiting hours, but you should probably call ahead.”
Farnsworth sipped her tea. “I’ll try to go tomorrow. I’ll have to double-check, but I think I can get away from work a little early.” She put the mug down on the table and ran a hand through her hair. Charlie could tell something was up.
“Everything okay?”
She hesitated for a moment. “I’m just thinking how odd it would be if he doesn’t recognize me.”
“It’s something you need to be prepared for,” he said. “But he’s making progress every day. You being there could actually help him … maybe trigger a memory.”
“Of course.” She let out a sigh. “I should be thinking about how I can help with his recovery … I’ll be there.”
They sipped their tea in silence, Charlie doing his best to pretend to enjoy what seemed to be a liquid cocktail of weeds that he found vaguely nauseating.
“Did Rob ever mention a Canadian friend who was coming to visit him here in Tokyo?” he asked, putting the mug back on the table.
She shook her head and frowned. “Doesn’t ring a bell, but I haven’t really seen much of Rob lately … I mean, before the accident, obviously.”
“When was the last time you saw him?”
She shrugged and ran a finger around the rim of her mug. “Three weeks ago? I had coffee at his place. We bumped into each other in the elevator on a Sunday morning.”
“How did he seem?”
“He seemed fine. He was a bit hungover … too much sake the
night before,” she added, with a grin. “Not that I know how that feels, of course.”
Charlie smiled. “And he didn’t mention this friend, Mike Seger, who might be in town?”
“No. Like I said, he didn’t talk much about his life in Canada, and I never really met anyone from his work.”
Charlie debated whether to refrain from asking his next question, but decided to go ahead. “You’ll forgive me for asking, but you’re not aware if Rob was seeing … anyone else?”
If she was taken aback, Farnsworth didn’t show it. “I don’t know, but it wouldn’t surprise me at all. Rob’s a good-looking chap, after all. But as I said, it’s been a few weeks since I’ve really talked to him.”
“Well.” Charlie pushed the mug of tea to the side as though it were empty. “I should be on my way. Thank you very much for the hospitality.” He made his way to the door, navigating the cluster of shoes.
“Can you text me that phone number?” she asked, opening the door for him.
“Of course.” She gave him her number, and he added it to his contacts.
“I’m glad I bumped into you,” she said, leaning on the door frame as he stepped out into the hall. “Rob’s very fortunate to have someone like you on his case,” she added with a kind smile before closing the door.
CHAPTER 15
Charlie was sitting in his weekly administrative meeting, pretending to listen to Denault as he droned on about reducing paper filing and other new and boring cost-cutting initiatives. He had spent the whole day thinking about the Lepage file, and waiting for a call from Chikako Kobayashi that had never come. He assumed the autopsy report on Mike Seger and the results of the requests for Rob Lepage’s email accounts had been delayed, but he was disappointed that Kobayashi hadn’t been in touch anyway. He had enjoyed walking around Asakusa with her, and having lunch together, even if it was just a working lunch.
“Right, Charlie?”
He was jolted back to reality by Denault’s voice, and when Charlie looked down the table at his boss’s expectant features, he had no idea how to respond.
“Sorry, I was just thinking of how to reduce my paper filing,” he said, clinging to the most recent thing he had registered.
“Well, we’ve moved on to performance appraisals but please, share your ideas with the team.”
Charlie stole a glance at Karen Fraser, who was concealing a grin on the other side of the table as the rest of the group waited for his response. “It’s nothing.… It needs more thought before it can be of practical use.”
“Well this is the place to air it, get some feedback from your colleagues,” Denault persisted, though it was obvious he knew Charlie had been day-dreaming his way through the meeting.
“Just, I was thinking of using the scanner more, to create electronic documents,” he said feebly, thinking it sounded good.
Denault smiled. “You mean, like item five on the agenda, that some of us were discussing five minutes ago?”
Charlie shrugged and Denault looked ready to continue his badgering when they were interrupted by a knock on the conference room door. It opened and Denault’s assistant poked her head in.
“Head of mission’s looking for you.”
“We’re pretty much done here, anyway.” Denault shuffled his papers into a leather folder and left the room.
“But we still have two agenda items.” Fraser tapped her printed agenda in mock indignation, after he had gone. “Not to mention Charlie’s great idea for reducing our environmental footprint.”
“Hilarious.” Charlie rolled his eyes.
“Preoccupied with the Lepage file?” Fraser said as they made their way out into the hallway.
“It’s that obvious?”
“Pretty much, though no one could blame you for drifting off in there.” She gestured to the meeting room they had just left.
“Do we really have those meetings every week?”
“I’m afraid so. He’s a bit of a stickler when it comes to the admin stuff. That one was a bit more boring than usual though, in fairness. Tell me about your consular file — that’s sure to be more interesting.”
They arrived at Charlie’s office, and he took a seat behind his desk while Fraser deposited herself in one of his client chairs.
“There isn’t much news to tell,” he began. “I was hoping to hear from the police inspector with the results of Seger’s autopsy.” He scanned his inbox for the hundredth time and saw nothing from Kobayashi.
“How about Lepage? Is his memory coming back?”
“Sort of.”
She frowned. “What about relatives in Canada — you have any luck?”
He shook his head, then brightened. “I did bump into a neighbour he was friendly with.” He was about to add where he had met Farnsworth on Sunday but stopped short of divulging that particular bit of information. He was pretty sure Fraser wouldn’t care one way or the other, but his being at Lepage’s apartment building on a Sunday might raise questions he would have difficulty answering. He had gone there with the intention of entering Lepage’s apartment with less than clear permission to do so, after all.
“I find that so … depressing,” Fraser said. “Him being laid up in a hospital bed on the other side of the world from home, and no family at his side.”
“I wouldn’t feel too bad for him,” Charlie said, thinking of Kimura and Farnsworth. “He seems to have a lot of friends.”
Fraser seemed poised to ask what he meant when his landline rang. He glanced at the display and noticed it was from the police. “You mind?” he said, getting a nod from Fraser. He grabbed the phone and heard Chikako Kobayashi’s familiar voice.
“I’m very sorry not to have called you earlier,” she began, in her usual conciliatory tone. “But I have some news that might interest you regarding your consular file.”
“Do you want me to come by the station?”
“Actually, I have some business to attend to at the Akasaka prefecture, but I should be finished around five o’clock.”
Charlie looked at his watch and saw that it was almost four. “I could meet you there at five.”
“Very well,” Kobayashi replied.
“Was that your police investigator?” Fraser said, after he had hung up the phone.
He nodded. “Apparently, there’s an update.”
“Well, I’ll leave you to it,” she said, getting up.
Charlie laughed and watched her go. He had a few things to wrap up before leaving for the five o’clock meeting. The prospect of an update intrigued him, especially when it meant seeing Kobayashi again.
“Thank you for meeting with me on such short notice,” Kobayashi said, after she had gotten Charlie through the reception area and into a meeting room at the rear of the Akasaka precinct building, halfway down Aoyoma-dori from the embassy. It was tiny compared to the main building in Kasumigaseki, but much easier to get into.
“Please,” Charlie said. “I appreciate you getting in touch.”
Kobayashi spent another few seconds on formalities before she got into the actual subject of the meeting. “The first matter concerns the results of the autopsy on Mr. Seger. I thought they would interest you.”
“Any surprises?”
She gave a subtle shrug. “Generally, no. Mr. Seger died as a result of blunt force trauma to the head. Specifically, a blow to the rear right quadrant of the skull. He would have died almost instantly.”
Charlie nodded. “That’s pretty much what we understood to have happened.”
“Yes, and the detailed analysis confirmed the level of alcohol in his blood at 0.13 percent. As we discussed, not insignificant, but not incapacitating for a man of his size.”
Charlie sat through a slight pause, sensing that there was a “but” coming.
“But there was no Rohypnol in his system.”
“What? But the earlier test indicated there was.”
Kobayashi’s expression was a mixture of agreement and embarrassment. “It seems the
first sample was improperly … processed. When I discovered the result of the second test, I asked them to repeat the test, just to be sure.”
“And?”
She shook her head. “No Rohypnol.”
“That certainly changes our working theory — that Seger was the victim of a routine scam gone wrong.”
Kobayashi said nothing, but Charlie could tell that she was thinking the same thing.
“And the autopsy didn’t give us any clues as to what kind of weapon was used to kill him?” he asked.
She shook her head. “The fatal wound made a round depression in the skull, so it was something very hard and rounded — not sharp. And we have already established that he was not killed where he was found,” she added. “Any physical evidence the weapon might have left would be at the scene of the … killing.”
“Which could be anywhere,” Charlie said, noting her careful choice of words, adding: “Are you treating it as a homicide?”
“Not officially.” She paused, and her expression suggested she might be leaving something out. “It is still characterized as suspicious.”
Charlie nodded, thinking it sounded like a way for the police to avoid launching an expensive investigation into the death of a foreign national whose family didn’t seem to give a shit about what had happened to him. Apparently bureaucracy was as alive and well in Japan as it was in Canada. Kobayashi conveyed the rest of the substance of the autopsy, none of which seemed out of the ordinary or offered any further clue as to what had actually happened to Mike Seger that night, or where he had been killed before being dumped in a grubby Roppongi alley.
“You mentioned you had some other information to pass along,” he said, when she had finished with the details of the autopsy.
“It’s about Ms. Kimura.”
Charlie was suddenly curious. “What about her?”
“You mentioned she worked for a call centre.”
Charlie nodded.
“I did some research but was unable to find anyone of that name and of her approximate age working at any of the registered call centres. I assume you haven’t heard from her since yesterday?”
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