The hotel lobby was huge, with subdued colors, and low lighting that would set most customers at ease. Like most of the fanciest hotels in Tokyo, the lobby was not on the ground floor. The hotel started on the twentieth floor and went up from there. Patrick sat Kiri and Jenna on a cushy bench in the center of the lobby and went to reception.
The concierge, an attractive woman in a tight black skirt, hurried over with kids’ bags for Jenna and Kiri. Patrick kept looking back and forth from the girls to the check-in clerk.
He explained that they missed their flight, which was technically true, and that his wife would join them, which was technically untrue, but worth saying for camouflage. The young woman at the counter accepted cash payment and his residence card instead of his passport, a little more camouflage.
The receptionist called a bellhop. The girls tried to help him load the bags. The bellhop and concierge joked with them in Japanese.
“Your girls are so cute!” The concierge brushed the side of Jenna’s head. “If we can do anything else—”
“What about a swimming pool?”
The concierge smiled. “On the top floor. Open all day.”
“We didn’t bring our suits,” Jenna said.
Patrick whispered, “We’ll buy new ones.” Patrick turned to the concierge. “Are there shops close by?”
“We have two floors of shopping on the floors below. And there are department stores at Shinjuku Station a short walk from here.”
“And I need to use the business center.”
The concierge hurried back to her desk for a small card with an access code. Patrick thanked her and followed the bellhop and luggage cart to the elevator.
The room, on the twenty-third floor, was much larger than he expected. Kiri and Jenna raced over to look out the window before exploring the room, opening everything, Jenna explaining it all in her older sister voice.
Patrick peered at the white-gray tumble below. What he loved about Tokyo from the moment he arrived was its endlessness. He’d tried in those first years to do everything, see everything, visit every place. Parks and temples snuggled into every corner of the city. Restaurants and bars opened and closed before he could even try them. When one art exhibition finished, another started. Miyuki made him love it all the more. And Kiri and Jenna even more.
Now he was worried that he might not ever come back again, that Tokyo was lost to him forever. That would be the least of it.
After they unpacked a few things, he led the girls to the business center one floor down from their room, eyeing the hallways in both directions. The passcode let them into the room. It was empty, and felt unused. The computers, printer and fax machine, still much in use in Japan, were new. The chairs, some European ergonomic design, were pristine, as if they’d never been used. The room smelled new.
Patrick checked the hallway, made sure the door latch worked, and pulled over chairs. “You two will have to wait while I check a couple things.”
Jenna bounced against the counter holding the computers. “We want to see what you’re doing.”
Kiri climbed up on her chair.
He logged in with the code and went to the Nine Dragons access site. The accounts were not frozen. They could be soon, he knew, but not yet. If he stayed on too long, they could find where he logged on from easily enough. “OK, now look at this. These are all the accounts that I handle.”
Kiri and Jenna nodded seriously.
“Now, I’m checking a couple of accounts to find out what happened in the last six months.”
“What happened?” Jenna looked back and forth between the screen and his face.
“That’s what I have to check. See these numbers here?”
The girls squinted at the spreadsheets of balances, withdrawals, deposits, and transfers.
“These are all in order, but let’s check another, bigger account.”
“How big are the accounts?
“Very big. See this one? It’s quite high, and then here, it’s quite low. That’s unusual. So, to find out why, we check here.” The girls stared at the screen from either side of his chair. Patrick opened Leung’s main transfer account.
Leung had been withdrawing money and moving it to another account, then transferring it to accounts only Leung could access. He found Tran’s master account but couldn’t log in. As Arisa had said, the accounts were divided. So busy in Wyoming, he hadn’t even noticed.
“Now, we’ll check some of the other accounts.”
Kiri wiggled. “What’s an account?”
“It’s like a school bag for money.” Patrick pulled up the accounts Leung had accessed most recently.
Jenna wiggled off her chair. “Mom checks the accounts on her cellphone.”
“This is like that.”
He could see the money spinning through, but he couldn’t see why. Leung pulled money from one account, sent it to the main account, then transferred it somewhere else. Within a week, the same amount returned. The amounts didn’t line up exactly, but were close enough.
“Is it OK?” Kiri asked.
“It’s fine.” Patrick patted her arm. “Fine.”
But it wasn’t. Leung had been toying with the largest clients’ accounts. Patrick knew them only by name, but he could tell these clients didn’t make their money from selling shoes, running restaurants, or buying real estate. They made large deposits all at once. Most used EMIs, electronic money institutions, which were not quite banks, but not quite cryptocurrency, either.
That would have to be enough for now. He didn’t want to be traced through any of his accounts. It would be nice to know if the police had been to the Nine Dragons’ office yet or not. He logged out, erased the browser history, restarted the computer, and made sure no trace was left.
He stared at the screen for a minute. “OK, let’s go get some bathing suits.”
“Yeah, new suits!” Kiri and Jenna skipped toward the door.
In the elevator, he took the girls’ hands. They were small and warm. He had missed the girls so much in Wyoming. He missed Miyuki too.
The stores on the shopping mall floor were expensive even by Tokyo standards. The clerks hustled out to help, more out of boredom than duty. They brought out bathing suits for the girls, a suit for him, goggles, and bathing caps. At a men’s store, Patrick found a change of pants, a couple of shirts and an autumn weight jacket, underwear, and socks.
Back in their room, they changed quickly and slipped into the hotel slippers and bath robes. He called for a laundry pick-up and was told to leave the bag in the room. They headed for the swimming pool on the top floor.
“Can you two go through the women’s side on your own? And rinse off?”
“Of course,” Jenna said, taking Kiri’s hand. “We’re not stupid.”
“Be sure to pee while you’re in there.”
Jenna gave him a look and they disappeared inside.
The muskiness of the men’s locker room mingled with the smell of too much cleaning fluid. A man in street clothes came in after him. He was tall with a chiseled face and wore a black outfit. He sat down and took off his shoes and socks, folded his black coat beside him, and undid his bright-colored tie and rolled it into a pocket.
Patrick washed his hands and walked out to the pool.
The high arched ceiling ran to a giant window. Along the side windows, a row of exercise bikes pointed outward as if you could ride off and hover over Tokyo if you just kept peddling. The water slushing in the drains was the only sound. The air was wet and full of chlorine smell.
The girls came out and hurried over to dump their slippers and bath robes on a deck chair at the shallow end. He helped them get their goggles, caps, and suits adjusted. Jenna jumped right in, but Kiri held his hand and eased in down the steps.
Jenna swam out and back. “Poppa, watch me. I learned how to kick and breathe. Let me show you.”
Kiri dunked under the water, but her goggles were too loose and she jumped up spluttering.
Patrick tightened them for her. “I’ll catch you if you sink.”
Kiri put her hands in front of her, gave a little jump, and started kicking. Patrick slipped his hand under her tummy to keep her up.
“Dad, watch!” Jenna turned and swam off, kicking and stroking strongly.
He marveled at how her teensy little arms could move her at all. It hardly seemed like there were muscles in her body, but she zipped right along.
Jenna stood up. “How was I?”
“You must be part fish.”
“We did swimming and water ballet at school.”
“Try to swim over there and back.”
Jenna did a strong crawl over. When she swam back, he pulled her high up out of the water and held her up for a moment before gently tossing her toward the deep end. She squealed in delight.
Kiri dog-paddled to him. He took her by the wrists and dragged her in a long sweeping arc through the water like a torpedo and delivered her to the shallow end.
“Shark!” Patrick sank underwater and moved with one elbow angled up like a shark fin. They copied him as best they could, all of them sharks in a shark family.
Kiri got tired first and sat on the top of the steps with her feet in the water, shivering. Patrick got out to help her dry off.
“Why aren’t there other people swimming?”
He bundled her into the bathrobe, which engulfed her.
As he watched Jenna go back again, in the windows opposite he saw the reflection of the man he’d seen in the locker room. He was lying on a deck chair with his shoes and socks on a towel and his black coat folded beside him.
Jenna climbed out and wrapped herself in the towel Patrick held for her. She took another towel and leaned to the side drying her hair in exactly the same way Miyuki did. The soft slosh of water echoed against the high ceiling.
Patrick wrapped smaller towels around their heads and tied their bathrobes tight. “Who’s hungry?”
The girls put their hands up, shivering.
He walked them toward the changing rooms on the opposite side from where the man sat, and hurried the girls into the women’s side.
The man sat up on the edge of the chair gathering his black clothes and shoes.
Patrick hurried through the dressing area.
The girls were waiting in the hallway. He put a hand on their backs. “Let’s see who can get to the elevators first.”
The girls took off, but Kiri tripped on the too-big bathrobe and Patrick stooped down to sweep her up. He pressed the elevator button and looked back down the hallway.
The man exited the changing room with his shoes on and his black coat over his arm.
The elevator rose slowly. When it arrived, he pushed the girls in, jammed the close door button, and pressed the button for the floor below theirs.
“That’s the wrong floor,” Jenna said.
“Oh, is it? We can walk up.”
“Can’t we ride up?”
“We need the exercise.”
“We were just swimming.”
Patrick gave Jenna the father-said-so stare. When they got to the wrong floor, Patrick punched the lobby button and hurried down the hallway to the stairway. On their floor, he looked back but there was only carpeted silence. He herded them into their room. He put the latch on as quickly as he could, trying to sound like a normal dad. “Let’s order food and then you can take a hot shower while we’re waiting.”
Jenna looked up at him. “I thought when you went shush, Mom would be here.”
Patrick patted her head. “Me too honey, me too.”