Chapter 34

At a yakitoriya we selected for its lack of tourists, I got Tamarind up to speed. The restaurant didn’t provide ninja entertainment, but we sat at the bar and watched as the chef, who didn’t speak a word of English, grilled our food behind the low counter.

“By the time I’d been in Japan for three hours,” I began, “I’d chased a spying ninja across Kyoto, been taken to a secret magic workshop, and seen the ninja spray paint a security camera before sabotaging the workshop.”

“I’m so sorry for the ninja restaurant pressure. I had no idea about your ninja baggage. Put down the chopsticks, Jaya. I’m going to need a lot more details.”

I told Tamarind everything. Spying, sabotage, and murder. A ninja and a foreigner. Hiro and his vendetta against Akira. Yoko being the brains behind Akira’s act. A Dutch trader’s real diary behind the Indian Rope Trick. The stolen diary and recovered kitsune spirit ball. The attempt on Sanjay’s life. A burglary at Yoko’s apartment. Sébastien thinking it was possible Lane was in Japan watching over me.

“So,” I concluded, “the central prop of the show was a real historical document written by a Dutchman who lived in the eighteenth century. Before arriving in Japan, he witnessed the Indian Rope Trick in India and stole gold pagodas from the British.”

Tamarind clasped her hands together. “The story behind the Indian Rope Trick illusion is real? So. Awesome. I mean, it sucks what it led to. But still. Awesome.”

“I looked up the museum where the diary was found, and it opens at ten tomorrow morning, so we have time for breakfast before we head there—”

Tamarind looked at her beer. “I’ve only had one of these. Yet I’m hallucinating.”

I blinked at Tamarind. “What did I say?”

“You’re planning on going into the lion’s den? The place where the diary someone killed over came from?”

“Of course I am. Sanjay is in danger. What am I supposed to do?”

“Walk your petite self to the police station.”

“Tamarind Ortega, have you been replaced by a robot? The real Tamarind would never suggest going to the police.”

“Resisting The Man is all well and good from the comfort of home, but we’re in a foreign country that neither of us is familiar with. And this isn’t like when you were blackmailed, or when the police didn’t take you seriously. These guys know there was a murder. They’re on it.”

“But they don’t know—hey, where are you going?”

“We’re both going to the police station.”

  

An hour later, we were sitting at the hotel bar.

“You can say it,” Tamarind said. “Go ahead.”

I twirled my cup of sake around the smooth counter of the bar. “Say what?”

“‘I told you so.’ You want to say it, don’t you? Go ahead and get it out of your system.”

“I really don’t want to say it. I’d have been thrilled if the police took our advice seriously that they should approach the case by looking at a foreigner who lived nearly two hundred and fifty years ago. All I can hope is that their forensics will come up with something. That’s how most cases get solved, isn’t it?”

“I think you’ve been watching too much television,” Tamarind said. “They were so polite, though, weren’t they? Did you know the police don’t even hardly use guns here? Instead they just roll petty criminals up in a futon and haul them down to the police station to cool off.”

I smiled. “I’m counting on the police to do their jobs regarding the killer. All I want to do is figure out why someone wanted the diary, so we can get Sanjay out of that path.”

“O.M.G.”

“What?” I whipped my head around. There were a few other hotel guests in the bar, none of them close by, and none of whom I recognized.

“You want it.”

“Um…”

“You want the treasure. The Dutchman of Dejima’s treasure. I can see it in your eyes.”

“You can?” I tucked my hair behind my ear.

“There’s a sparkle.”

“It’s called ‘bar lighting.’”

“I don’t think so, Jaya,” Tamarind said. “I don’t think so.”

Was she right? With my heart pounding, three thoughts ran through my mind:

Find the treasure. Save my best friend. Get back the guy I wronged.