Who really knows another person’s mind? While Tomoe was adamant her father wouldn’t have killed himself, it seemed that every time a suicide was in the news it was inevitably accompanied by people saying the same, all reflecting on how happy the person had been only the day before. We each have our darker side and some hold it closer. A traditionally minded man in Japanese society would seem likely to do just that.
So I held on to a sense of hope that Tomoe was just distressed and would become more rational as time went on. Trying to second-guess her wasn’t wise, so I needed a backup. A way to avoid being drawn into a murder mystery, if that’s what it was going to become.
This wasn’t a classically heroic response, but I’d seen plenty of films where the lead was forced into action only when he was the last one left. That wasn’t the case here. There were 130 million people in the country – their country – a legal system, a police force. I was just a lost gaijin trying to get my life back on track, a visitor in their land.
For all the vicarious heroism you may feel at the cinema, facing a real murder sobers you up. It forces you to examine yourself and your depths of bravery. It provides a blunt assessment of who you really are. This might bruise your self-esteem but it’s very helpful in determining your propensity for life-threatening risk.
I loved being with Tomoe. She made me laugh when I was happy and comforted me when I was down. She was intelligent and she was interesting and she made me look at things in different ways. But I’d only known her a year and there was more I didn’t know about her than I did. So when talk turned to murder I had to ask questions about her state of mind.
If it hadn’t been unsettled by her father’s death, helping her would mean seeking out a killer. And by looking for a murderer you give yourself a chance of finding one. I’d spent my life trying to stay out of harm’s way. I wasn’t keen to put myself in the firing line for a man I didn’t know, even if that man was Tomoe’s father.
‘So, Rei-kun, when can you go to Matsubaya?’
It had been a couple of days since Tomoe had first made the request. We were curled up on her sofa and until that point my focus had been on her tattoo – a small black fox that fascinated me with the way it seemed to leap and dance around her ankle.
‘Tomoe, are you sure you want to do this? I know you need to find out what happened to your father, but taking on the yakuza, it’s, it’s …’ I struggled to find the right words. ‘It’s dangerous. I mean, they hurt people – they kill them. I know you said the police are involved but there must be some who aren’t corrupt. We could speak to them, let them know something’s wrong.’
‘It doesn’t work like that,’ she replied. ‘Of course there are policemen who aren’t corrupt, but what am I going to say to them? “I think my father was killed by yakuza because it wasn’t in his nature to kill himself? Your colleagues are involved so you’ll need to take over their investigation – oh, but I don’t have any proof.” Even you don’t believe me and you’re my boyfriend.’
I started to protest but she silenced me with a kiss.
‘I’m not blaming you. I know it must sound crazy and we haven’t known each other long enough for you to have blind faith in me. Maybe I haven’t let you know me enough …’
She looked distracted for a moment before she snapped back.
‘This is my problem. I don’t want you involved and I certainly don’t want to put you in danger—’
‘I’m not afraid for myself,’ I cut in as an internal voice tried to scream me down. ‘I’m worried about you. I just want to make sure you’re safe. I’ll do whatever needs to be done.’
It was not what I’d been planning to say. My moment of clarity seemed to have been missed by my pride.
‘No. I don’t want you involved,’ she said again. ‘But this time it’s impossible for me. It needs a man.’
‘I’ll pay,’ said Tomoe the next day after her inevitable victory in our battle of wills. ‘You’re doing this for me.’
‘Tomoe, you can’t pay for me to go to a prostitute. It’s weird.’
‘You’re not going to a prostitute. You’re going to soapland to help find out what happened to my dad. It’s different.’
I was still struggling to get my head around the idea of a first-time visit to the sex trade at my girlfriend’s request. We’d avoided discussion of the lengths I should go to maintain my cover, but I had to assume my fidelity would be in doubt. Her taking the cost didn’t seem right.
‘I don’t care how you put it. I’m paying.’
It was a straightforward plan. I was to visit Matsubaya and ask for Sakura. At an appropriate moment I would subtly elicit what information I could on Takata Eiji, head of the Takata-gumi, Tokyo’s largest gang. It was obviously a sensitive subject and the chances of getting detailed information were negligible to none. What I needed to find out, most likely by gauging the reaction to my light-touch prompting, was whether the man himself had been there.
‘How’s that going to help us find out about your father?’ I asked.
‘You don’t need to worry about that, Ray-kun. I need to know if Takata’s connected to the place, that’s all. If you can find out it will help.’
Despite my initial reservations, I’d slowly come to terms with my new role. It seemed I might be able to help without imperilling anything but my morals, and on the scale of risks that didn’t seem too bad.