Fishing for Stars

by Bryce Courtenay

  ‘You spent seven years in prison?’

  ‘No. The Americans needed comfort women for their soldiers during their occupation and asked the Honourable Yoshio Kodama, who was reorganising the yakuza into a single force, to establish clean and safe places for their forces to visit. He had access through the American Army Intelligence, G2, to the records of war criminals and, discovering my past, negotiated my freedom and asked me to organise six comfort-women establishments near the US military bases, then more during the Korean War, until we eventually controlled the military brothels throughout Japan.

  ‘He installed the honourable Dr Honda, who was also imprisoned for work he did as a junior army doctor at Harbin in Manchuria, where they used prisoners of war as guinea pigs in the army’s germ-warfare program. He had only a minor part, but as most of the senior staff, the real experts, went to America to continue their research, the young, inexperienced doctors were put on trial to satisfy the War Crimes Tribunal. There was much venereal disease around and the Americans were very strict.

  ‘To help me organise the comfort houses Kodama-san sent twenty of his young wakagashira to learn the business. Fuchida-san was one of these but at the time he was also studying at the university. They were all heroin addicts and were not always reliable, with the single exception of Fuchida-san, who was hungry to learn, with a terrible energy and ambition and strict principles. He soon learned the concubine business and also how to control the kuroi kiri [black mist], doing the awkward and dirty jobs for the government that gives us our real power. With his own determination and strength I would eventually help him to give up the white powder, to get clean.

  ‘The brothels proved very profitable. Then when the Americans left we expanded, until today most of them and the sex, gambling, nightclub, and pachinko – pinball parlour – businesses in Tokyo and in all the big cities are owned by yakuza or are under yakuza control. It is how Fuchida-san first came to prominence. He has a tremendous flair for organisation and eventually gained sufficient power to become the oyabun for the Tokyo region. When I retired he took me in as his mama-san.’

  I had not interrupted while she told her amazing story. ‘And now you act only as his mama-san?’

  ‘Yes,’ she replied. ‘I have become a feeble old woman who answers the telephone and serves green tea.’

  I laughed. ‘I don’t think so.’

  She smiled, her powdered face a study in wrinkles. ‘Every man, even the Emperor, needs a mother. Perhaps also I am still a bit useful to him. My memory is good and that is why I must listen to the phone calls. Sometimes the lesser oyabun will argue that they didn’t say something or that something else was intended, then Fuchida-san will call me in and I will tell them in their exact words and inflections what they said. It is part of my geisha training and it has not forsaken me.’

  But I had the feeling that Miss Sparkle was much, much more than a human tape recorder and dispenser of green tea, although, because of the outwardly off-hand and dismissive treatment by men of women in Japan, I would probably never know the true extent of her influence. I decided to confide in her.

  ‘Korin-san, I have a problem.’

  ‘With Anna?’

  ‘Yes. She wishes still to have the original assignation with Konoe-san.’

  Miss Sparkle showed no surprise. ‘She is strong. She cannot be defeated.’

  ‘Stubborn!’

  ‘It is her way.’

  ‘She must not. It will harm her further. We must go home.’

  ‘You have told her this?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Miss Sparkle cackled. ‘She is a woman who takes her own advice; not many women do.’

  ‘Always,’ I returned. ‘But this time it is wrong!’ I insisted with some emphasis.

  ‘Does she listen to you?’

  ‘Sometimes, but not often; in most matters she is better than me.’

  ‘That is a difficult thing for a man to admit.’

  ‘But it is nevertheless true.’

  ‘And she is successful?’

  ‘Enormously. But there is much more to come.’

  ‘Business?’

  ‘Yes. She is very good. Already a millionaire . . . I think.’

  ‘So, why does she wish to confront Konoe-san?’

  ‘I don’t know, some sort of revenge maybe? Close the books? I don’t really know or care, except I do know that it will damage her – has already damaged her, and that’s all I care about.’

  ‘Duncan-san, I was a geisha and I think as an old woman I can now say I was a good one. My job was always to anticipate the wishes of a man, to think like him, to know him intimately, instinctively. When Anna was incarcerated in the Nest of the Swallows, my instructions were to prepare her for Colonel Takahashi. I told her what every geisha knows – that if she pleases a man beyond anything he may have anticipated, she acquires power. It is the soft power of a woman. When he is satiated, when every pore of his body is fulfilled, satisfied, when he believes he is the only one, the true satyr, the person of absolute primary importance to a woman’s craving for satisfaction, his arrogance weakens him and he becomes vulnerable to her power, her influence. I carefully and assiduously trained Anna in how she might do this with Colonel Takahashi. I taught her the soft power of a determined and patient woman. She listened, she appeared to obey my every instruction, she became skilled in the ways of pleasuring a man, and then when she faced Takahashi-san she used all I had taught her to disarm him so that he trusted her and foolishly believed he controlled her, whereupon she killed him before he could take her virginity. Duncan-san, Anna-san has the hard power every woman wishes she possessed, but doesn’t.’ Miss Sparkle now looked directly at me. ‘Tell me. Is she still a virgin?’

  I coloured furiously, my face burning with shame. She had pinned me as surely as if I had been a butterfly on the wall in Fuchida-san’s collection, where, by the way, I would probably find myself next to a brown spotted butterfly called ‘Satyr’. ‘Yes,’ I admitted.

  ‘Hai! And you think the confrontation with Konoe-san will further damage her?’ she said doubtfully. ‘She has never submitted to the one disadvantage every woman suffers, that we are the mortar, the receptacle, not the pestle, and not only physically, but also for the male ego. We try therefore to make it our strength, an enticement, a spider web, to trap the male. If we are patient and skilful and gifted with beauty, often the soft power is successful. But to be beautiful and desirable in every way, then to refuse to be the receptacle, to refute soft power in preference for hard power, that is what Anna has done.’

  There wasn’t any point in trying to pretend to this wise and world-weary old geisha. ‘Konoe-san is different. As you know he never used her as a man does a woman, so soft or hard power was not the issue. He simply captured her mind and took possession of her soul. I love her as much as a man can love a woman, but I believe he controls her still.’

  ‘And what then do you believe you bring to her?’

  I shrugged. ‘Who may know a woman’s mind? Certainly not me. I know she loves me and perhaps I am the stable force in her dangerous life. Dependability may be seen as a virtue, so may consistency, though neither is exciting or compelling. I think my world and the life I lead in the islands is without the complications or the malice that exist in the competitive business environment in which she operates. Perhaps she comes to me to rest her mind and to renew her spirit.’

  ‘That is well spoken, Duncan-san. Then you are the soft power. That is unusual in a man, but greatly to be cherished. It is also the only way with someone like Anna-san.’

  I laughed. ‘In business, as in choosing clothes, she asks my opinion only so that she can do the opposite.’

  ‘Have you not thought, Duncan-san, that perhaps you possess the greater qualities of tolerance and goodwill?’

  ‘Hmm, I don’t know about that. With Anna there is always the pain of not possessing her completely. But it is manageable, I have learned to compromise.’

  ‘Manag
eable? Compromise?’ Miss Sparkle chuckled. ‘Ah, I see, there is another woman! You want Anna, but also everything else?’

  ‘Yes,’ I grinned rather sheepishly, taken aback by her perspicacity. ‘I cannot help it.’ I spread my hands in an attempt to seem casual. ‘I am a man.’ In retrospect it was a ridiculous remark, and thankfully she ignored it.

  ‘To possess, then, only the greater part of Anna, is it worth it?’

  ‘Yes,’ I laughed, ‘well worth it.’

  ‘Then why do you fear her reunion with Konoe-san? He cannot harm her now.’

  I was stymied. I had never thought about it like that. What Miss Sparkle was telling me was that nobody ever possesses someone entirely, that people are free to apportion their love. I saw suddenly that there might be a need, a hunger in Anna, that I could never fulfil, but perhaps Konoe Akira possessed those qualities that could. I also saw that we were not necessarily competitors.

  ‘What do I fear?’ I pretended to be thinking while knowing full well what she was suggesting. ‘Okay, I fear that her need for him will be greater than her need for me,’ I replied with some uncertainty, surprised by my own reply. Miss Sparkle had made me see it clearly for the first time, made me realise that true love is giving freely of those things you can share while accommodating, accepting, those you can’t. Loyalty and trust are two of the most important components of the many that make the whole of love. Put this way it sounded eminently intelligent and simple, providing always that you didn’t involve your emotions.

  Miss Sparkle rose. ‘I will go now, Duncan-san. Please call me if I can help. In the meantime I will think about what you have said. You are a fine man and Anna is very fortunate.’

  ‘Thank you, Korin-san. Will you please allow me to be the judge of Anna’s immediate welfare? I am not certain that I will inform her of your visit. But I would like to think that I may call on you, on your wisdom.’

  She cackled at the compliment. ‘In Japan only men possess wisdom; women make suggestions. Of course, call on me when you wish.’ Then, as if she’d read my previous thoughts, she said, ‘I am an old woman who has been trained since a young maiko never to make emotional decisions, and the strict observance of this rule robbed my life of real meaning. Reason is why we survive, but without emotion there is very little quality to our existence. True love is about forgiveness and there is no logic in forgiveness.’

  With these words Miss Sparkle departed. I noted with some amusement the big Mercedes parked in a no-parking zone directly outside the hotel. Miss Sparkle’s appearance resulted in a great deal of bowing as she crossed the hotel foyer, a bellboy rushing to open the rear door of the big black auto even before the driver could leap out of his seat.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  ‘Bravo! If you’d stayed in the hotel to arrange the ransom rather than galloping off on your white charger to rescue me, I could have bought my way out unharmed in a couple of hours.’

  Anna, Tokyo

  WHILE SHE HADN’T COME out directly and advised me on what to do about Anna’s determination to see Konoe Akira, the meaning of Miss Sparkle’s final words was nevertheless unmistakable. I needed to, in her opinion, allow Anna to see her mentor without opposition. I had to trust her strength and her love – our love – to survive whatever might come of that meeting.

  I wasn’t at all sure that this was sound advice or that I was able to cope with it emotionally. I told myself that I knew a great deal more about Anna’s psychology than anyone else, that by giving in and not resisting I would, potentially, be partly responsible for more harm and a fresh set of problems.

  However, I also knew that whether or not I was able to stop Anna from seeing Konoe Akira, I was risking our future together by my vehement opposition. After all, it had originally been my idea she visit him. If she went ahead despite my resistance, there would be no way I could back down gracefully.

  It had all seemed so neat. In my fevered imagination she would confront a pathetic old pervert of no substance and instantly slough off his influence; before my very eyes, she would be miraculously restored to health.

  This was classic Nick Duncan mind-shit. The events of the past few days had proved how ridiculous and inappropriate this excremental notion was. Here I go again, heads I lose, tails you win, I thought, feeling a tad sorry for myself.

  When I arrived back upstairs Anna was showered, dressed and sitting at the mirror brushing her hair. ‘Good morning, gorgeous boy!’ she called. ‘Where you bin? I’ve missed yah,’ she quipped.

  I walked over and she kissed me warmly. ‘Downstairs,’ I said, surprised at her ebullience. ‘Sleep well?’

  She grinned. ‘Like a log . . . sorry about last night.’

  I wasn’t sure whether this was an apology for the fight we’d had or for her panic attack. ‘That’s not necessary. You were under a fair bit of strain. I’m glad you’re feeling better, darling,’ I said, in this way accommodating either possibility.

  She continued brushing her hair. ‘Who was downstairs?’ she asked casually.

  ‘A messenger from Fuchida-san – they’ve found Gojo Mura,’ I said, putting one and three together.

  Anna turned. ‘Oh, Nick, how exciting for you! When can we meet him?’

  I hesitated momentarily. ‘I’m not sure. It was arranged for this morning, but I postponed it.’

  Anna was not fooled. ‘Because of me?’

  ‘Well, yes. Unavoidably. Doctor’s orders.’

  Lowering the hairbrush she turned to face me. ‘Doctor? What doctor?’

  ‘You don’t remember?’

  ‘Remember what? We had an awful row. I remember that. I’m awfully sorry, Nicholas,’ she repeated, head to one side, her beautiful violet-blue eyes regretful.

  ‘Darling, you had a panic attack during the night . . . early morning,’ I corrected. ‘Yesterday morning actually. I called the doctor and he gave you an injection,’ I said, trying to minimise the seriousness of the event. ‘He said I should stay with you and . . . well, call him if you woke up distressed, but you’ve slept for hours.’

  ‘Really? A day and a night? I woke up with a headache, but even that’s gone.’

  As I’d entered the room I’d caught the now unmistakable whiff of the dragon, even though Anna had opened all the windows under the pretence of letting in the spring sunshine. She would probably be okay for the next eighteen hours. ‘Good, now what about some breakfast?’ I glanced at my watch. ‘Brunch?’

  ‘Have you eaten, Nicholas?’ she asked.

  ‘Not yet.’

  ‘You must be starving. I am. Let me put on some lippy. How about scrambled eggs . . . something that’s not Japanese, with toast and coffee, yum!’

  But over breakfast Anna seemed preoccupied. ‘What’s wrong, darling?’ I asked, sensing she wasn’t happy.

  ‘Nicholas, when I went into the bathroom, I found a woman’s clothes – underwear, a pair of sandals . . .’ She looked at me steadily. ‘Perhaps you’d care to explain?’ Before I could say a word she added pointedly, ‘I can’t say much for your taste, my dear. Her underwear was sluttish!’

  ‘Anna! Surely you remember?’ I laughed helplessly. ‘They’re yours, darling, I bought them at Mitsukoshi. Your suit was ruined.’

  She looked at me uncertainly, then reached over and grabbed my hand. ‘Oh I’m so sorry, darling, now I’ve hurt you.’

  I grinned. ‘Well at least it proves I’m consistent in matters of taste.’ I hadn’t personally liked the shirtmaker so I’d assumed Anna probably would. If she didn’t, it meant I was losing my bad-taste touch, but the rebuke over the undies restored my confidence. ‘I actually thought the undies looked pretty good.’

  ‘The sandals are really quite nice,’ she comforted me, ignoring my remark about the underwear.

  It was obvious that she could recall very little of what had occurred after her rescue and the helicopter ride to freedom. Kinzo-san’s office, the trip to the bathhouse and her new clothes were, it seemed, forgotten. Perhaps, strangest
of all, she’d forgotten our lunch in the park and the fact that she had told me of her rescue and the murder of the three guards in great detail. Only our argument seemed to have stayed with her.

  ‘Nicholas, can we meet Gojo Mura?’ she now asked excitedly. ‘You have such fond memories. It would be good to know how it all turned out for him. It’s such a lovely day and I feel completely rested.’

  I grimaced. ‘Not sure about that, darling. Had a bit of a row with Fuchida-san.’

  ‘Row? What, over Gojo Mura?’

  ‘I told you he wanted to go this morning and I said it wasn’t possible. He didn’t take my refusal kindly. I guess blokes like him don’t expect to be rebuffed.’

  ‘Oh, then it was Fuchida-san downstairs?’

  ‘No, he phoned earlier to tell me he was sending a car. I told him then that I couldn’t come. That’s when he had a shitty.’

  ‘So, if it wasn’t him, who was downstairs? You said it was someone from the yakuza?’ Anna as usual had picked up the fine print.

  ‘Someone sent by Fuchida-san on a different matter,’ I said, prevaricating.

  Anna leaned back in her chair, her beautiful mouth in full pout. ‘I see. You’re not going to tell me. Let me guess . . . it has something to do with me?’

  ‘Yes, I can’t deny that.’

  Her smile when it came was not intended to charm me. I was headed for trouble. With an impatient flick of her head she said, ‘Then surely I am entitled to know?’

  ‘It was Fuchida-san’s mama-san, the one I told you about, Miss Sparkle with the diamond earrings. He sent – well no, that’s not strictly true – she came over to see if she could care for you, you know, after the kidnapping. The shock and all that.’