Tim drove to Kokubunji Station by alternately creeping down back streets and zipping along four-lane roads that flowed quickly. He studied the rearview mirror on both, and at every intersection, and in-between. Patrick started looking behind in the side mirror too.
When Tim pulled into the circular drive of Kokubunji Station, the coffee shop was right where Arisa said it would be next to the station entrance. But right beside it was a koban police box with two police officers standing out front.
Tim put the car in park.
When Patrick undid his seat belt, he realized he was going to leave his two girls in the car with someone he only met in person for the last half-hour of driving. And if the info had been distributed at airports, it might be at every police box in the country. He would be walking right in front of them.
But he had to talk to Arisa.
He leaned back toward Jenna and Kiri. “You two need to stay in the car and don’t cause any trouble for Tim, OK?”
Tim kept his eyes on the police officers.
Patrick took a deep breath before he got out and closed the door. After looking at Kiri and Jenna once more, he plunged through the flow of people scurrying in and out of the station, keeping his face in the other direction from the police.
The coffee shop was a run-down place with faded lace curtains and a door with window panes, one of them cracked. Above the door, a once-cheery blue coffee cup, big as a barrel, balanced on a saucer, its blue paint chipped and the wood rotted to splinters. When he pulled the door open, cow bells jingled.
The tables and chairs in the shop were made of thick, dark wood. A dull-pink, coin-operated Showa-era telephone was plunked on the counter. Antique coffee cups and sewing machines filled the shelves up to the ceiling. No one shouted, “Irashaimasse.”
Patrick glanced out the window again and walked back to where Arisa was sitting at a back table. The chic office wear and neat bob haircut she sported at Nine Dragons were replaced by a sweatshirt several sizes too large and uncombed hair with dark roots below the coloring. He never noticed she wore makeup in the office, but now he noticed she didn’t wear any at all.
Patrick sat down. “It’s good to see you.”
She glanced into his eyes and then looked away at a faded street map of Paris pinned to the wall.
“Are you OK? What happened? Why did you quit?”
Arisa turned back to him and shrugged.
“I need to ask you a few questions.”
Arisa fiddled with her empty coffee cup. “I’m not sure I know the answers.”
“Do you want another?” Patrick heard someone stirring in the back kitchen, but no one came out. “I need to know what’s going on at Nine Dragons. I can’t get hold of Leung.”
Arisa gnawed the inside of her cheek and kept her eyes on her empty cup. “I don’t work there anymore.”
“Why did you quit?”
Arisa looked at the map of Paris, the monuments sketched to stand out. “I don’t know what to tell you because I don’t know what you know.”
“Why did Leung insist I set up those LLCs in person? And why did he insist I stay so long?”
Arisa clenched her jaw.
In the office, she sorted out glitches, remembered birthdays, eased new hires into their positions, made sure meetings started and ended on time. At office nomikai, Arisa was always the bubbliest, the one who kept the exchanges going, poured drinks, and stayed until everyone headed home.
Arisa picked up her cup and swirled the remaining foam. “I’m not sure why Leung wanted you to stay, but things changed after you left for Wyoming. New people came. It got busy.”
“New clients?”
“And new employees.”
“Like who?”
“First a man named Tran, and then another named Mehta. Both from the Hong Kong office. Tran ran security and Mehta did my job. Tran went back, but Leung still talked to him every day.”
“Your job? But you—”
“New clients arrived, with huge accounts, and Leung told me we needed two office managers to handle it all. However, I stayed with the old clients and Mehta handled the new ones.”
“Who brought in those clients?” He had been too busy setting things up in Wyoming to notice.
“Leung did. I didn’t see any of their files or any information about them. But you must have seen something in the bank transfers.”
“All I saw were new accounts coming in. I was working my ass off getting all the transfers set up for the right accounts and making sure the LLCs and agents were in order.”
“You didn’t see anything else?”
“Like what? I mean, the transfers were rerouted to other accounts and some came from strange routings, but—”
“The clients who came in after you left were different. It was like Nine Dragons had divided into two.” Arisa pulled her sweatshirt tight around her and put her hand on the map of Paris spreading out in boulevards and old lanes, the Seine snaking blue through the middle.
“Arisa, please tell me what’s wrong. Why did you quit?”
Arisa picked up the empty cup with her hands inside her sleeves. “One day, I was working late, and Shimada from accounting called me down to the parking lot. He said his car wouldn’t start and he needed my help. I don’t know a thing about cars, but I went anyway, for hand-holding. When I got there, a car pulled up.”
“Where was Shimada?”
“He wasn’t there. Two guys got out. They didn’t say much, but it was clear I was supposed to get in the car with them.”
“You didn’t, did you?”
“They were insistent.” Arisa put her empty cup down.
“Who were they?”
“I’m still not sure. Maybe new clients. Or they knew the new clients. I thought they might be detectives at first, but they weren’t.”
“So, who were they?”
“Just three guys. In black suits. Bright ties, orange, purple, maroon. I sat in back with a tall guy who told me that Shimada was going to quit. They drove me around for an hour asking me questions.”
“What kind of questions?”
“About accounts, clients, how the office worked, who had access, all kinds of things.”
“Things only you would know?”
“Me, or Leung. The new guy, Mehta, and you would know too, except for the newest accounts. I told them some things. I worried what would happen if I didn’t say something.”
Patrick thought about that. “And then they drove you back?”
“I took the next day off. And then the next. It took me a day or two to realize how scared I was. I thought it was just strange at first, then I realized how serious it was.”
“Did you tell Leung?”
“No. I quit.”
“Why didn’t you tell me all this?”
“How would I have told you?” Arisa finally looked him in the eye. “There was my section and Mehta’s section. And you were handling both in Wyoming.” Arisa nodded slowly. “Did anything happen while you were over there?”
“Yes, that’s why I came back.” He didn’t want to tell her about the photos, but it was more than that. “I was told by a paralegal at one of the firms that someone had asked about me. A tall Asian guy. Then I got a message about my girls. I ignored it. I got a second message and realized I was being…I don’t know…threatened. My girls were being threatened. I came back right away.”
Arisa’s eyes widened. “Are your girls OK? And your wife?”
“They’re fine.” Patrick looked at the door of the coffee shop but couldn’t see out. “I’ve got to go.” He stood. “Are you going to be OK?”
Arisa looked up at him. “Quit, will you? Stay away from Nine Dragons.”
Their eyes met. “There are a couple of things I need to do first.”
“Forget those things. It’s worse than you think.”
Patrick patted the back of the chair, looking at Arisa.
“My girls are waiting.”
“Your girls are outside? You really need to get out of Japan and take them with you.”
She’d always known everything at Nine Dragons. Now, she didn’t know anything. He looked at the map of Paris and hurried outside.
Along the row of cars in the drop-off circle, Tim’s car was not there.
A jolt of adrenaline shot through him and he hurried to the curb, glancing at the police, trying not to run.
He looked in both directions while jamming his finger on the callback button for Tim. Two policemen watched him from where they stood by the koban police box.
Tim didn’t answer, so he redialed as calmly as he could. He had trusted someone and he would not do that again. Patrick stood there watching every car, thinking things he didn’t want to think.
He walked to the end of the half-circle and stood beside a line of people waiting to board a bus. Taxis and private cars pulled up, stopped, and then pulled onto the busy street that ran parallel to the train line. Redialing was all he could do.
Finally, Tim answered. “Be there in a minute, buddy.”
Patrick stifled a yell. “Where the fuck are you?”
“A cop asked me to move. I couldn’t park there any longer without drawing attention. Relax. We’re just around the corner.”
Patrick saw Tim’s black car pull into the opposite side of the drop-off area and circle to where he was.
He yanked the door open, trying not to explode in front of the girls. He got in the front and turned to Kiri and Jenna. “Did you have a nice drive?”
Jenna looked at him. “What about you, Poppa? Did you have a nice talk with your friend?”
“I did, actually. Thank you for asking.”
Tim pulled off. Patrick stared out the window, too angry to acknowledge how frightened he’d been.
When the highway noise muffled their conversation, Tim looked over. “You took longer than I thought. We’ll be at the hotel in thirty minutes and you can lie low. I got a text about a private yacht that could run you to Korea. I think it’ll work.”
Patrick nodded. So, maybe they would be out of Japan by tomorrow and the girls would be safe. Once he got them to safety, he’d figure out what to do about Miyuki.
He didn’t know what to do other than get them out of Japan safely, and he was failing at that. Watching Tokyo pass by, he reminded himself he’d have to be more careful if any of this was going to work.