CHAPTER 28
Lepage had been turning it over in his mind since leaving the restaurant, and by the time he was back at his apartment building he was convinced that Charlie was holding out on him. It was the postcard … it had to be. Maybe he hadn’t pieced it all together yet, but it was only a matter of time. As he rode the elevator up, Lepage thought of Kimura’s plans for the consular officer. Would she act today, or tomorrow? Locking his front door behind him, he sat at the kitchen table, pulled out his cellphone, and dialed her number.
“What is it?” Her clipped tone said everything.
“You need to hold off on what we discussed yesterday.”
There was a pause on the other end of the line. “We should meet if you have something to say.” He heard a rustle on the line and then silence for a few seconds before she came back on the line. “Why hold off?”
Lepage’s pulse quickened as he detected something in her voice that suggested it may already be too late. For all he knew, Hillier had just been pushed in front of a train at Omote-sando Station.
“He knows something,” he said, wishing he had thought the conversation through before calling.
“Are you saying he has what we’re looking for?”
“No,” he added quickly, realizing he may be putting himself at risk. “I just need a day, maybe two. If I’m right, I can find out what we need and then you can go ahead. But if he gets spooked, there’s no telling what will happen.”
Kimura was silent for a moment, assessing the information with her usual detached calculation. “You have twenty-four hours, no more. And don’t call this number again.”
The line went dead before he could respond. He slammed the phone down on the table and grabbed his head in his hands, willing himself to focus, to concentrate, to remember … but it was pointless. He took Charlie’s card out of his pocket and stared at it. He had to find out what the consular officer knew, and fast, or they were both dead men.
Charlie was almost at the end of the gradual ascent as he made his way east on Omote-sando and wondered whether he should just keep walking. It was probably only thirty minutes back to the embassy compound and he could probably use the exercise. He scanned the clouds overhead and while they still looked a little grey for his liking, they hadn’t opened up yet, and he thought they might hold off until he got home. He passed a convenience store and was considering picking up a cheap umbrella, just in case, when his phone went off. He pulled it from his pocket and saw that the number was blocked. He stepped to the side of the moving crowd on the sidewalk.
“Charlie Hillier.”
“Charlie, how are you?”
He felt an involuntary smile at the sound of Kobayashi’s voice. “Chikako?” He imagined her looking embarrassed at his use of her first name, but she conveyed no such discomfort on the phone. In fact, she seemed all business.
“I was hoping we could meet today.”
“Where are you?”
“Kasumigaseki,” she said, referring to the headquarters of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police.
“Do you want me to meet you there?”
“Perhaps not.” This time, he picked up on a trace of discomfort in her voice, but whether it was due to the sensitive nature of the information she wanted to share, or the fact that they had slept together the night before, he wasn’t sure, and he didn’t really care.
“I’m near Omote-sando.” He checked his watch. “I could meet you at the embassy in about fifteen minutes.”
“I’ll see you there.”
Fifteen minutes later, he was standing at the edge of the park adjacent to the Canadian embassy. He had glanced down at his BlackBerry for a split second when he heard his name. The sound of Louis Denault’s voice, unlike Kobayashi’s, didn’t elicit a smile. Just the opposite, but he tried to manufacture one just the same.
“Hi, Louis.” He tucked the phone into his pocket and glanced over Denault’s shoulder, thinking how uncomfortable it would be if Kobayashi arrived at this particular moment. Then again, they were consenting adults, and it was none of Denault’s goddamn business if he …
“Everything okay, Charlie? You seem a bit perturbed.”
“What?” Charlie tried another smile, realizing his face must have conveyed some of what he was thinking. “No, I just … I didn’t sleep very well last night.”
“You’re not still dealing with jet lag, surely?”
“I guess not.”
Denault’s expression softened a bit. “It can take a surprising amount of time to adjust to the time change. You’ll get used to it eventually, I promise.”
Charlie nodded, wondering how to avoid a drawn-out encounter, but he needn’t have bothered. Denault was pointing to his watch. “I hate to rush off, but I’m late already.”
“Don’t let me keep you.”
“Have a nice day.”
“You, too, Louis,” he said, watching Denault hurry off east across the front of the park. He had all but disappeared from view by the time Charlie turned back and saw Kobayashi approaching from the other direction. They exchanged a strangely formal greeting and then headed to the front gate, past security, and on to Charlie’s apartment.
“Can I get you a coffee, or some tea?” he asked as they stood in the living room.
“No, thank you.” He could tell from her posture that she was as nervous as he was, and he wondered if she had planned the meeting to tell him what a bad idea last night was, as opposed to giving him information related to Seger or Lepage. He was tempted to pre-empt her with an apology of his own but he held his tongue as they took a seat at opposite ends of the sofa.
“So, what’s up?”
“I was reviewing the file on Mr. Lepage’s accident and I noticed there was no mechanical report,” she began.
“You were reviewing the case file on a Sunday morning?” Charlie couldn’t help thinking that he had spent most of the morning lounging in bed.
“I had to deal with another matter and … anyway, I spoke to the mechanic who inspected Lepage’s vehicle and he said he found evidence that the brakes had been tampered with.”
Charlie was silent as the information sank in. “Someone disabled his brakes?” he finally asked, almost as a question to himself.
“It was not a conclusive finding,” Kobayashi continued, “but he says he indicated the possibility on his report.”
Charlie frowned. “I thought you said there wasn’t a report?”
“He prepared a report. It just didn’t make it into the file.”
There was another silence as they both considered the possibilities. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” he finally said.
“I think we have to consider the possibility that Mr. Lepage’s accident was not an accident at all,” she said, side-stepping his real question. “Which leads us to ask why someone would want Lepage dead.”
Charlie stood and paced across the living room floor as his mind processed emerging possibilities. “It’s starting to look like Rob may not be the clean-cut banker I thought he was. Maybe he was mixed up in something shady.” He noticed her expression and substituted a less colloquial term. “Illegal. It’s got to involve Kimura … I knew from the moment I first saw her that she was bad news.” He shook his head and sat back down next to Kobayashi. “But if someone was prepared to cut his brakes a couple of weeks ago to get rid of Lepage, why hasn’t anything else happened since? Rob’s been out of the hospital long enough that if anyone wanted to finish the job, they could …” He stopped as he recalled the gun he had found in the top of Lepage’s drawer. Its presence made sense if Lepage was thinking the very same thing — that someone was coming for him, whether he knew his car had been tampered with or not.
“What is it?” Kobayashi asked.
“Nothing, I just …” Charlie muttered, buying time as he weighed whether to tell Kobayashi all he knew. She wore a puzzled, almost hurt look as she waited for him to say more; perhaps realizing he had been holding out on her. “I went to
Lepage’s apartment the other day and I found a gun.”
“You entered his apartment without his permission?” Her eyes had widened noticeably.
“He gave me a key, when he was in hospital.” He shook his head. “I hadn’t given it back yet so I went to see him and he wasn’t there,” he felt the need to add, although it wasn’t entirely accurate. “Then I bumped into him in the hallway when I was leaving.”
“Did he know you were in his apartment?” There was a new urgency in Kobayashi’s question.
“I don’t think so … I don’t know, he was acting weird, like at lunch today.”
“You met him today?”
“He wanted to take me to lunch, to thank me for everything I had done.” Charlie watched her reaction as he spoke and felt immediately foolish. “God, I’m such an idiot,” he said, slapping his head.
Kobayashi shook her head and put a hand on his arm. “No, you’re not. But you have to be careful. It may be dangerous for you.”
“For me? Why?”
“Because Lepage is likely in danger himself, and his actions as a result may be … unpredictable.”
Charlie nodded. As usual, she had seen through the veil that had fooled him so easily.
“What did you talk about at lunch?” she continued.
“Apart from chit-chat, there wasn’t much,” he said, with a shrug. “He seemed surprised that there wasn’t going to be a formal investigation into Seger.”
“Surprised or relieved?”
“I didn’t really sense relief from him.” Charlie tried to recall his exact expression on learning the news. “The only time I noticed him acting strangely is when I gave him back his apartment key, but not the postcard.”
“What postcard?”
“It was one of the few things I collected from his apartment, right after he came out of the coma — you know, to try to help his memory along. I brought it to the hospital and showed it to him, but it didn’t seem to trigger anything. He got sort of frustrated and told me he didn’t want it.”
Kobayashi frowned. “But he obviously remembers it now.”
“He asked whether I had it. I told him I couldn’t find it.”
“But you do have it?”
He stood and went into the kitchen, returning with the postcard of Mount Fuji that he had been keeping on his fridge. “It’s just a blank postcard,” he said, handing it to her. She turned it over and examined both sides, paying particular attention to the postmark in the top left hand corner on the back. Other than Lepage’s address, there was nothing on either side of the card.
“It’s a Roppongi postmark.” She set the card down on the coffee table and took out her phone. “Do you mind if I take a photo?”
“Be my guest.” He watched as she took one picture, then turned the card over to take another of the back. The process reminded him of the legal pad he had found on his second trip to Lepage’s apartment. “You made me think of something,” he said, taking out his own phone and pulling up the picture of the diagram and showing it to her.
“What’s this?”
“I found it in a drawer of Lepage’s desk.”
Kobayashi looked at him for a moment. “The first time, or the second?” she asked, and he realized he had already confessed to breaking and entering to a Japanese police officer.
“The second,” he said, thinking that was the least of his worries right now. Kobayashi picked up the phone to get a better view. “AK must be Aiko Kimura,” she said.
Charlie nodded. “And MVA must be his accident.” He paused as Kobayashi looked on with a puzzled expression. “Short for motor vehicle accident, at least I assume that’s what he meant.”
“Ah.” She nodded her agreement. “And MS is Mike Seger. But what is the significance of the number sign?”
He looked at the diagram again. “I was thinking it was a hashtag, but you’re right, it could also be a reference to a number.” He shrugged. “I really don’t know.” She puzzled over the diagram for a while, then picked up the postcard again and examined the postmark. “This was mailed the day before the accident.”
Charlie pointed to the handwritten address on the postcard. “And I’m not sure, but that looks like Rob’s handwriting. I saw some of his notes in the files in his desk drawer.”
“So he sent it to himself.” Kobayashi was frowning again. “But why?”
Charlie shook his head. “I wish I knew.”
“We need to find out.” Kobayashi seemed to be making the statement aloud to herself, then looked up at him suddenly. “You should be very careful with Lepage. Don’t agree to any more meetings with him,” she added. Her tone approached admonishment.
“I can take care of myself, you know.”
She looked at him for a moment, then moved closer to him on the couch and put her arm on his.
“If he’s involved with the yakuza, whether he knows it himself or not, he is in grave danger, as is anyone close to him. I know how they operate, and I don’t want you to end up …”
“Like Seger?”
She leaned in and kissed him. “I just don’t want you getting hurt,” she said, pulling back and looking him in the eyes. In the soft light of the living room, she looked more alluring than ever.
“I’ll be more careful,” he said, leaning in to return her kiss.
CHAPTER 29
Charlie returned from the cafeteria with a cup of steaming coffee and took a seat at his desk. He had spent most of the morning trying to clear his inbox, but it was almost midmorning and he had barely scratched the surface. He sipped the coffee and looked out at the bright sunshine, which concealed what was a surprisingly cool morning outside. It had been downright frosty when he had accompanied Kobayashi back to the Metro station around eleven the previous night. He smiled at the thought of her. On the surface, she was everything he imagined a Japanese woman to be — demure, self-effacing, and always apologizing for something — which made what lay beneath the facade even harder to reconcile. Kobayashi was more passionate and uninhibited than anyone else he had been with.
For all his bullshit, it seemed that Cliff Redford really did have a handle on Japanese culture. It stood to reason, Charlie supposed, since Redford had been here for almost thirty years and was married to a Japanese woman. He wondered what Kobayashi really thought of their relationship, and it occurred to him that perhaps it was just a physical outlet for her. He imagined the energy she would have to expend each day, maintaining the facade — putting up with the shit from her male co-workers, trying to appease her parents, who’d rather she taught preschool or worked as a secretary than in the male-dominated, dangerous, and — as she had put it — unexpected career she had chosen. Whatever her motive, he was glad that fate had crossed their paths.
“Daydreaming?”
He looked up with a start to see Karen Fraser standing at his door.
“I was just thinking about that memo from HR.”
“Really?” She took a seat in one of his chairs. “You looked like you were thinking far more pleasant thoughts than that. I read that thing and it just made me wonder how much longer I’ll have a job with the department.”
He smiled. “They’ll always hang on to the good ones, Karen. You don’t need to worry.”
“Well said.” She raised her coffee cup in a mock toast. “So, how was your weekend?”
He thought he detected a playful tinge to the question and he fought back a smile as Fraser sat there, looking innocent. “It was great, Karen, how was yours?” he said with mock severity. She held up for a split second, then laughed out loud.
“All right, I guess I’m busted. And it’s none of my business,” she added, waving a hand. “I just couldn’t help noticing …” Charlie nodded. He had wondered whether he had seen someone near the entrance to Fraser’s building when he was walking Kobayashi out the night before, but he thought they had slipped by unnoticed. Apparently not. “It really is none of my business, Charlie.”
He smiled. “I suppo
se this is the downside of living in the same complex as your co-workers.”
“Yes, we’re one big, happy, nosy family.”
He let the silence grow for a moment, as Fraser sipped at her coffee, before speaking. “She’s just someone I met — a friend.”
“Friends are good.” Fraser looked up from her cup. “I think it’s great. You seemed kind of, I don’t know, lonely when you got here. You seem a lot happier now.”
Charlie considered the statement, and realized it was accurate. Despite his unease at whatever was going on with Lepage, he was a lot happier. On the other hand, maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to be so obviously smitten by someone he was supposed to be interacting with on a purely professional basis. He suddenly wondered whether there was actually anything wrong with what they were doing. They were consenting adults, after all, and there was no Seger investigation, at least officially. He was considering whether to say more when his phone rang. He held up a finger to Fraser and answered the call from reception.
“Charlie Hillier. Oh really? Okay, tell him I’ll be right down.”
“It’s right up, actually,” Fraser said as she stood to go, reminding him that they were a floor below the reception level.
“Thanks for straightening that out.”
“You’re obviously distracted by more pressing matters,” she said with a wink.
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