Despite being deeply touched by his offer of marriage, Tokiko wrote, she was going to decline. It wasn’t right for a person like her to hold back a young man like him who had so much going for him. She also gave him a scolding: his parents had paid for his college; the least he could do in return was find something worthwhile to do with his life.
Naohiro had felt as if a bucket of cold water had been poured over his head. It suddenly dawned on him just how much he had taken his parents’ kindness for granted and how blind he’d been to the realities of life. Tokiko’s letter was full of love, but he could also detect that she was aware of his immaturity.
From that day on, Naohiro had been a changed man. He quit his job in the bar and joined a support services company. It was a decision that ultimately paid dividends. The knowledge he’d built up at that business served as the foundation for the cleaning company he started.
“I bumped into Yuri in a Ginza hostess club a couple of years ago. She was the spitting image of Tokiko. That was surprise enough, but what really blew my mind was the fact that she had that ring on.”
“She was wearing it when you met her?” asked Kaga.
Naohiro nodded.
“‘What’s with the ring?’ I asked her. I got a shock when she told me it was an heirloom from her mother, who had died three years earlier from pancreatic cancer. ‘What’s your mom’s name?’ The question was on the tip of my tongue, but I managed to stop myself. I needed to calm down and think things through first.
“After that, I paid repeated visits to the club. Every time I went there, I paid extra so that Yuri would sit with me. I did my best to get her to open up about herself. You never really know if those hostesses are telling you the truth, but she told me that she’d been raised by a single mother.”
Eventually, Naohiro found out a decisive piece of information: Yuri’s date of birth. She’d been conceived back when Naohiro and Tokiko were involved.
One night, Naohiro decided that it was time: he told Yuri that he needed to talk to her alone.
“There’s something important I need to tell you. It’s connected to your mother. I’m guessing her name was Tokiko. Am I right?”
Yuri’s eyes widened with surprise. “How did you know?” she asked.
That was when he was sure it was true. The room seemed to spin around him. Does this sort of thing really happen? he was thinking.
When the club closed for the night, Naohiro took Yuri to one of his favorite Japanese restaurants. He picked it because it had private rooms. The moment they were alone together, Naohiro confessed to being her father. He spoke about everything that had happened between them — including that he had no idea about Tokiko being pregnant.
“I apologized for all the grief I’d put them through. It was pretty damn obvious that life hadn’t been easy for them. Maybe I hadn’t known anything about it, but the ultimate responsibility was still mine. After all, if I hadn’t been such a poor excuse for a man, Tokiko might have agreed to marry me,” said Naohiro.
“How did Ms. Miyamoto respond?” Kaga asked.
“With surprise, naturally enough. She had a hard time believing it was true, I think. Who could blame her? Still, she realized I wasn’t just some old man with the hots for her. We didn’t talk much that first evening, but Yuri got in touch a few days later to talk some more.”
“Things seems to have settled down quite nicely now,” said Kaga.
“As I already had a family, my plan was to help her out discreetly for the time being.”
“Which is when your wife came out and asked for a divorce?”
Naohiro snorted with laughter.
“Ironic, isn’t it? My experience with Tokiko had taught me that women liked men who worked hard. Now Mineko was telling me that hard work alone wasn’t enough. Must be something wrong with me. I just can’t seem to get the balance right.”
“But losing Mineko enabled you to bring Yuri closer to you.”
“I wanted to be a proper father to the girl. I certainly wasn’t prepared to let her keep working as a hostess in a Ginza nightclub. I knew that hiring her would trigger all sorts of gossip, but I planned to reveal that she was my daughter when the time felt right. I wanted to tell Koki first, but Mineko’s murder made that impossible. Koki seems to hate me more with every passing day.”
Naohiro tipped what was left of his beer down his throat. He’d always dreamed of going out drinking like this with his son, listening to his troubles and dispensing fatherly advice. But the reality was that every single conversation they had ended in a fight.
“I wonder what good things you and your ex-wife got out of the divorce?”
Naohiro screwed up his face in distaste. “That’s not a very nice thing to say.”
“I’m not trying to be sarcastic. Ms. Mitsui, convinced that your son’s girlfriend was pregnant, moved to live near him. The minute you were single again, you hired Yuri. In other words, you both wanted the same thing: family. The bonds of family are strong, Mr. Kiyose. You and Koki are family, you mustn’t forget that.”
Naohiro looked at Kaga. The detective smiled shyly and fiddled with his chopsticks on the table.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. It was overstepping my bounds.”
“No,” murmured Naohiro. The cell phone in his jacket pocket pinged to announce an incoming text. “Excuse me a moment,” he said and pulled it out.
It was from Yuri. The first word was “Urgent,” so Naohiro read it right away.
I am with my little brother. Give me a call if you can join us.
Naohiro gasped and froze, staring at the screen.
“What’s wrong?” Kaga asked.
Naohiro silently showed him the text. Kaga frowned briefly, then smiled.
“Looks like your new family is already coming together. Go on, go and join them.”
“Thanks.” Naohiro stood up. “Was the ring enough for you to work out that Yuri was my daughter?” he asked, still standing by the table.
That would be quite a feat of deduction, thought Kaga, grinning mischievously.
“It was a gut thing. I thought she might be, the minute I saw her.”
“You’re kidding?”
“They look very much alike, Yuri and Koki.”
Naohiro just grunted.
“Koki said that her face looked familiar. I think he’d seen it in his mirror.”
Naohiro stared at Kaga, shaking his head.
“One last question. What’s your rank?”
“Sergeant.”
“Well, they should promote you to lieutenant,” declared Naohiro, and headed for the door.
8
The Customer at the Handicrafts Shop
1
Masayo Fujiyama was at the desk in the back of the store, working her way through a pile of payment slips, when the customer appeared. The hands of the clock indicated it was a little after six. On weekdays few, if any, customers came in this late, and Masayo was so focused on her work that it was a while before she realized anyone was there.
Of course, she didn’t know whether this particular customer would actually buy anything. Maybe he was just browsing. Still, Masayo never neglected a prospect, so she got up and walked over to the entrance. The customer was male, probably in his late thirties, and wearing a blue short-sleeved shirt over a T-shirt.
It was the spinning tops that seemed to have caught his eye. The tops came in three sizes — small, medium, and large — and were decorated with concentric red, white, and green circles. Picking up one of the small ones, he held it in his hand.