The Devotion Of Suspect X (2 page)

Yasuko was sorting the bills in the register when the sliding glass door opened and someone walked in. “Hello,” she chimed automatically, looking up. Then she froze. Her eyes opened wide and her voice caught in her throat.

“You look well,” said the man who was standing there. He was smiling, but his eyes were darkly clouded.

“You … how did you find me here?”

“Is it so surprising? I can find out where my ex-wife works if I have a mind to.” The man looked around the shop, both hands thrust into the pockets of his dark navy windbreaker, like a prospective customer trying to figure out what he should buy.

“But why? Why now?” Yasuko asked, her voice sharp but low. She glowered at him, inwardly praying that the Yonazawas in the back wouldn’t hear them talking.

“Don’t look so frightening. How long has it been since I saw you last? And you can’t even manage a polite smile?” He grinned.

Yasuko shivered. “If you’re here to chitchat, you can save yourself the trouble and turn around right now.”

“Actually, I came for a reason. I have a favor to ask. Think you can get out for a bit?”

“Don’t be an idiot. Can’t you see I’m working?” Yasuko said, then immediately regretted it.
That made it sound like I would have talked with him if I wasn’t at work
.

The man licked his lips. “What time do you get off?”

“It doesn’t matter. I don’t want to talk to you. Please, just leave and don’t come back.”

“Ouch. Cold.”

“What did you expect?”

Yasuko glanced outside, hoping that a customer would walk in, but the street was empty.

“Well, if this is how you’re going to act, guess I’ll try someone else,” the man said, scratching his head.

Warning bells went off in Yasuko’s head. “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean if my wife won’t listen to me, maybe her daughter will. Her school’s near here, right?”

“Don’t you dare.”

“Okay, then maybe you
can
help. Either way’s fine by me.”

Yasuko sighed. She just wanted him to leave. “I’m on till six.”

“Early morning to six o’clock? That’s some long hours they got you working.”

“It’s none of your concern.”

“Okay, I’ll come back at six, then.”

“No, not here. Take a right outside, and walk down the street until you come to a large intersection. There’s a family restaurant on the near corner. Be there at six thirty.”

“Great. And, try to make sure you’re there. Because if you don’t show up—”

“I’ll be there. Just leave. Now.”

“Fine, fine. Kick me out on the street.” The man took another look around the shop before walking out, closing the sliding door behind him a little too hard.

Yasuko put her hand to her forehead. A headache was coming on, and she felt nauseated. A weight of hopelessness began to spread inside her chest.

It was eight years since she married Shinji Togashi. Now the whole sordid story replayed in her mind …

When she met him, Yasuko was working as a hostess in a club in Akasaka. Togashi was a regular.

He was a foreign-car salesman. He lived large, and he had included her in his high-flying lifestyle. He gave her expensive gifts, took her to pricey restaurants. When he proposed, she felt like Julia Roberts in
Pretty Woman
. She was tired of working long hours to support her daughter after a failed first marriage.

In the beginning, they were happy. Togashi had a steady income, so Yasuko could wash her hands of the nightclub scene. He was great with Misato, too, and for her part, Misato seemed to try hard to think of him as “Daddy.”

When things fell apart, it happened suddenly. Togashi was fired from his job when his employers discovered that he had been embezzling company funds for years. The only reason they didn’t press charges was that they wanted to cover the whole thing up, afraid their own judgment and oversight would be called into question. So there it was: all the money he had been spending in Akasaka had been dirty.

After that, Togashi changed. Or maybe it was just that the real person he had always been finally came to the surface. The days he didn’t go out gambling he spent lying about at home. When Yasuko complained, he became violent. He started drinking more, too, until it seemed as though he was always bleary-eyed drunk and looking for a fight.

Yasuko had no choice but to go back to work. But all the money she made, Togashi took from her by force. When she tried hiding it, he started turning up at the club on payday and taking the money before she could stash it away.

Misato learned to be terrified of her stepfather. She didn’t like being left alone with him at home. At times she even came to the club where Yasuko worked just to avoid him.

Yasuko asked Togashi for a divorce, but he wouldn’t hear of it. When she pressed harder, he started hitting her. Finally after months of anguish she turned to a lawyer recommended by one of her customers. The lawyer was able to get a reluctant Togashi to sign the divorce papers. Evidently, her husband realized that he had no chance of winning in court and that unless he agreed to go quietly, he might even end up having to pay alimony.

Yet divorce alone did not solve the problem. In the months that followed, Togashi had made a habit of dropping in on Yasuko and her daughter. His affairs were all settled, he told her; he was devoting himself to his work. Wouldn’t she consider mending things between them? When Yasuko tried to avoid him, he started approaching Misato, sometimes even waiting outside her school.

When he came to Yasuko literally on his knees, she couldn’t help but feel pity, even though she knew the whole thing was a performance. Perhaps a little bit of the affection she had once felt for him remained. She gave him a little money.

It was a mistake. Once Togashi got a taste, he started coming more frequently—always with the same groveling demeanor, yet growing increasingly shameless in his requests.

Eventually Yasuko switched clubs and moved to a new apartment. Even though she hated to do it, she also changed Misato’s school. And Togashi stopped appearing. Then a year ago she moved again and took the job at Benten-tei. She had wholly believed she had rid herself of that walking catastrophe for good.

She couldn’t let the Yonazawas hear about her ex-husband and his reappearance. She didn’t want to worry them. Misato couldn’t know about it either. She had to make sure, on her own, that he never came back to see her again. Yasuko glanced at the clock on the wall and gritted her teeth.

Just before six thirty, she left the shop and made her way to the restaurant. She found Togashi sitting near the window, smoking. There was a coffee cup on the table in front of him. Yasuko sat down, ordering hot cocoa from the waitress. She usually went for the soft drinks because of the free refills, but today she didn’t intend to stay that long.

“Why?” she asked with a glare.

Togashi’s mouth softened. “You’re sure in a hurry.”

“I’ve got a lot to do, so if you really have a good reason for coming here, out with it.”

“Yasuko—” Togashi reached out for her hand where it lay on the table. She drew it back quickly. His lip curled. “You’re in a bad mood.”

“Why shouldn’t I be? You better have a good reason for stalking me like this.”

“So antagonistic! I know I might not look it, but I’m serious about this.”

“Serious about what?”

The waitress brought her cocoa. Yasuko picked it up and took a scalding sip. She wanted to drink it as fast as she could and get out of there.

“You’re living by yourself, right?” Togashi asked, staring at her from under lowered brows.

“So? What business is it of yours?”

“Hard for a woman living by herself to raise a kid. She’s just going to cost more and more, you know. What do they pay you at that lunch shop, anyway? You can’t guarantee her future on that. Look, I want you to reconsider. Reconsider
us
. I’ve changed. I’m not like I was before.”

“What’s changed? You working?”

“I will. I’ve already found a job.”

“But you’re not working yet, are you.”

“I said I got a job. I’m supposed to start next month. It’s a new company, but once things get rolling, hey, you and your daughter could live the easy life.”

“Thanks, but no thanks. If you’re making all that money, I’m sure you won’t have any problem finding someone else to share it with. Just, please,
leave us be
.”

“Yasuko, I need you.”

Togashi reached out again, trying to touch her hand where she held the cup. “Don’t touch me!” She recoiled from his grasp; a little bit of the cocoa spilled as she moved, dripping on Togashi’s fingers. “Ow!” He jerked back his hand. When next he looked at her there was malice in his eyes.

Yasuko glared back. “You can’t just come here and give me the same old lines, not after what’s happened. How do you expect me to believe you? Like I said before, I haven’t the slightest desire ever to be with you again, not the slightest. So just give it up. Okay?”

Yasuko stood. Togashi watched her in silence. Ignoring his gaze, she put the money for her cocoa down on the table and headed for the door.

As soon as she was outside the restaurant, she retrieved her bicycle from its parking spot and began to pedal away. She pictured Togashi running after her, sniveling, and it made her pedal faster. She went straight down Kiyosubashi Road, turning left after Kiyosu Bridge.

She had said everything there was to say, but she was sure she hadn’t seen the last of him. He would show up at the shop again before long. He would stalk her, become a nuisance, maybe even make a scene. He might even show up at Misato’s school. He would wait for Yasuko to give in, figuring that when she did, she would give him money.

Back at her apartment, Yasuko began making dinner. Dinner wasn’t much more than warmed-up leftovers she had brought back from the shop, but even so, tonight cooking seemed like a difficult chore; every few moments her hands fell still as some horrible thought occurred to her, some scene played out in her mind.

Misato would be home soon. She was in the badminton club at school and usually spent time after practice talking with the other girls. She usually made it back around seven o’clock.

The doorbell rang. Yasuko frowned and went to the door. It wouldn’t be Misato. She had her own key.

“Yes?” Yasuko called without opening the door. “Who is it?”

There was a brief pause, and then, “It’s me.”

Yasuko didn’t answer. Her vision dimmed. A terrible feeling crept up inside her. Togashi had already found their apartment. He had probably followed her from Benten-tei one night.

Togashi began knocking on the door. “Oi!”

She shook her head and undid the lock, leaving the door chain fastened.

The door opened about four inches, revealing Togashi’s face right on the other side. He grinned. His teeth were yellow.

“Why are you here? Go away.”

“I wasn’t finished talking. Boy, short-tempered as always, aren’t you?”

“I told you, we’re done. Finished. Never again.”

“You can at least listen to what I have to say. Just let me in.”

“I won’t. Go away.”

“Hey, if you won’t let me in I’ll just wait here. Misato should be getting home anytime now. If I can’t talk to you, I’ll just have to talk to her.”

“She’s got nothing to do with this.”

“So let me in.”

“I’ll call the police.”

“Go ahead. What’s wrong with a man coming to visit his ex-wife? The police will take my side.
You could at least let him in, ma’am,
they’d say.”

Yasuko bit her lip. She hated to admit it, but he was probably right. She had called the police before, and they had never done the slightest thing to help her. That, and she didn’t want to make a scene. Most tenants had a guarantor backing up their rent, but she had moved in here without one. One troubling rumor and she could be kicked out onto the street.

“Okay. But you have to leave right away.”

“Sure, of course,” Togashi said, a light of victory in his eyes.

Yasuko undid the chain and opened the door. Togashi stepped in, taking off his shoes as he glanced around the room. It was a small apartment, just a kitchen and two other rooms. The room closest to the door was done in the Japanese style and was wide enough for six tatami mats on the floor, with a doorway on the right side leading into the kitchen. There was an even smaller Japanese-style room toward the back, and beyond that, a sliding door opened onto a small balcony.

“Little small, little old, but not a bad place,” Togashi commented as he sat down, tucking his legs underneath the low, heated kotatsu table in the middle of the room. “Hey, your kotatsu’s off,” he grumbled, fumbling around for the cord and switching it on.

“I know why you’re here.” Yasuko stood, looking down at him. “You can say whatever you like, but in the end, it’s all about money.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Togashi frowned, pulling a pack of Seven Stars from his jacket pocket. He lit one with a disposable lighter and started looking around more deliberately, noticing the lack of an ashtray for the first time. Getting up, he fished an empty can out of the trash and set it on the table. Sitting back down, he flicked his ashes into it.

“It means you’re only here to get money out of me. I’m right, aren’t I?”

“Well, if that’s how you want it to be, then I’m fine with that.”

“You won’t get a single yen out of me.”

He snorted. “That so?”

“Leave. And don’t come back.”

Just then, the door to the apartment flew open and Misato came in, still dressed in her school uniform. She stopped for moment when she saw the extra pair of shoes in the doorway. Then she saw who was there and a look of abject fear came over her face. The badminton racket dropped from her hand and clattered on the floor.

“Hello, Misato. It’s been a while. You’ve grown,” Togashi said, his voice casual as could be.

Misato glanced at her mother, slipped out of her sneakers, and walked in without saying a word. She made a beeline for the room in the back and closed the sliding door behind her tightly.

Togashi waited a moment before speaking again. “I don’t know what you think this is all about, but all I want to do is make things good between us again. I don’t see what’s wrong in asking that.”