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  'I'm sorry you got pulled into it,' Satake said.

  'Not to worry. I had a crash course in the judicial system though I guess I'm getting a bit old for school.' While he talked, Kunimatsu's fingers worked the tiles with a hustler's delicate touch, aligning them with a satisfying clatter and then turning them up one by one. Satake lit a cigarette and watched him in silence for a moment. He sucked the smoke deep into his lungs, savouring its effects after a month of forced abstinence. Satake had few vices. This was his great indulgence. 'I have to admit,' said Kunimatsu, glancing at him, 'it was a bit of a shock to hear what happened to Yamamoto.'

  'I guess that's how you end up when you go poking your nose where it doesn't belong.'

  'Like you said, "the card shark got bitten"/ said Kunimatsu, laughing again.

  'And I was right.'

  'About Yamamoto?'

  'No/ he laughed, 'about me.' Kunimatsu nodded, but it was hard to tell what he was thinking. He probably half-believed that Satake had killed Yamamoto; and if he hadn't gone running for cover, it was only because, unlike the hostesses, he had nowhere else to earn a living.

  'It's a shame about Mika, though. There wasn't another club in Kabuki-cho that made money like that.'

  'Not much I can do about it now,' said Satake. While he was locked up, he'd told the manager to put everyone on an extended 'summer vacation'; but almost all the employees had been Chinese, with nothing more than student visas, and they'd all gone elsewhere rather than risk getting involved with the police. Reika, the manager who reportedly had ties with the Chinese gangs, was the first to go, heading home to Taiwan at least for the time being. Chin, the floor manager, had apparently moved on to another club, but Satake had no idea where. Anna, who had long been pursued by headhunters from rival clubs, must have found other work as well; and the rest of the girls had either gone home, if they had visa problems, or had signed on at other clubs. What else could you expect in a place like Kabuki-cho? When business was booming, they came buzzing around like bees to a flower, but at the slightest sign of trouble, they were gone. And he could imagine that the news about his past had sent them packing with greater than usual haste.

  'Will you be starting over?' Kunimatsu asked. Satake looked up at the ceiling. The chandeliers he had picked out himself were still there, though they were dark now. 'Is there a "New Mika" in our future?' his manager said, staring at his hands which were coated with talc.

  'No. I've decided to sell the place, furniture and all.' Kunimatsu looked up at him, clearly surprised.

  'That's too bad. Can I ask why?'

  'There's something I have to do.'

  'What's that?' said Kunimatsu, dusting the powder from his long fingers on to the tiles. 'Whatever it is, I'd like to help.' Without answering, Satake reached back and slowly began to rub his neck. He was having trouble working out the kinks from the sleepless nights in the cell, and if he ignored them they developed into a vicious migraine. 'So what is it?' Kunimatsu sounded impatient.

  'I'm going to find out who really killed Yamamoto.'

  'Sounds like fun,' Kunimatsu laughed, thinking he was joking. 'Like playing detective.'

  'I'm serious,' Satake said, his hands still kneading his neck.

  'But what are you going to do if you find him?'

  'I'll figure that out when the time comes,' he murmured. He had already given some thought to the question, but he would keep his plans to himself. 'When the time comes,' he repeated.

  'You have somebody in mind?' Kunimatsu asked, eyeing Satake nervously.

  'At the moment, I'm betting on the wife.'

  'The wife?' He looked surprised.

  'But you can't tell anyone.'

  'Of course.' Kunimatsu looked quickly away, as if he'd just caught a glimpse of the darkness in Satake's heart.

  -

  Satake left the club and wandered out to the main street. The late summer days were still brutally hot, but the nights had grown cool, and he appreciated the change as he made his way to a nearby building. It was brand new and cheaply built, all glass and steel; and according to the gaudy signs out front, it housed a collection of small clubs. He checked the name of the bar, 'Mato', on the directory and pressed the button in the elevator. As he opened the black door, the manager, dressed in black himself, came hurrying over.

  'Good evening,' he said. But when he got closer he stopped, eyes wide. It was Chin.

  'I see you landed on your feet,' Satake said. Chin smiled respectfully, but his expression was less obsequious now.

  'Satake-san, it's a pleasure to see you. Are you here as a guest?'

  'What else?' he said, smiling bitterly.

  'And did you have a particular girl in mind?'

  'I heard that Anna ended up here as well.' Chin glanced toward the back of the room and Satake's eyes followed. The place was smaller than Mika, but the Chinese decor and rosewood furniture were nice enough.

  'I'll call her for you,' said Chin. 'But she's changed her name.'

  'To what?'

  'She's "Meiran" now.' The name sounded flat and ordinary to Satake's ears. The lady in charge, a Japanese woman in a kimono who knew Satake, looked up in surprise as he was led through the club.

  'Satake-san,' she said. 'What a pleasure. Have things settled down at your place?'

  'You might say that,' he told her.

  'I understand Reika-san is still in Taiwan.'

  'Could be. I haven't heard from her.'

  'I suppose there could be some unpleasantness if she came back,' the woman said. Satake sensed she was referring to his own supposed connections with the Chinese mafia, but he decided to ignore the remark.

  'I wouldn't know,' he said.

  'Well, it's all been a terrible shame,' she said, looking uneasy, as if she'd realised she had offended him. He smiled vaguely, beginning to weary of the constant suspicions. A good-looking woman who might have been Anna was seated toward the back of the club, but from behind he couldn't be sure.

  The table that Chin led him to was poorly situated, in the middle of the place, even though the preferred seats at the rear were mostly empty. The customers were taking turns at the karaoke machine, and after each performance, the hostesses would automatically applaud, like a troop of trained animals. Recoiling from the noise, Satake worked his way further along the couch. A young woman, whose only qualification seemed to be her youth, appeared at the table and began to chatter at him in broken Japanese, an artificial smile plastered on her face. Satake sat quietly downing glasses of cold oolong tea.

  'When is Anna .. . I mean Meiran . . . going to be free?' he asked after a while, at which the girl abruptly stood up and moved to another table. From then on, he sat by himself, eventually nodding off in the comfort of a familiar environment. He was probably asleep for no more than a few minutes, but to-Satake it felt like hours. There was no chance of his finding any real peace now, but these moments of rest were an escape, a chance for his body to relax.

  He caught a whiff of perfume and opened his eyes to find Anna seated across from him. Her deeply tanned skin was set off by a white silk pants suit.

  'Good evening, Satake-san,' she said. It had always been 'honey' before.

  'How are you?' he asked.

  'Quite well, thanks.' She smiled as she answered, but Satake could feel the wall that had gone up between them.

  'That's some tan,' he said.

  'I was at the pool every day.' She was quiet for a moment, perhaps remembering that it had all begun with their trip to the pool. Her hands seemed to move automatically, making two weak drinks from the bottle of Scotch they had brought without a word from him. She set one in front of him, though she knew he didn't drink.

  'How are they treating you here?' he asked, studying her face.

  'Well enough. I was top girl this week; the Customers at Mika have all been coming around.'

  'I'm glad to hear it.'

  'And I've moved.'

  'Where?'

  'To Ikebukuro.' She didn't