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Authors: Sujata Massey

The Pearl Diver (21 page)

BOOK: The Pearl Diver
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“You said business was slow. What are tonight’s dinner reservations like?” I asked. In the back of my mind, I was thinking. I was going to have to drum up business, call everyone I knew to come eat. I’d get Hugh to drag over his colleagues, Kendall to coax in the politicos…

“We’re half-full, and if we get some walk-ins, we’ll do okay. But I doubt it. Everyone’s afraid to come to H Street now.”

It was on the tip of my tongue to protest that people shouldn’t be such chickens, but I recalled what had happened. I hadn’t even been near H Street, but in a supposedly much better area. No place was safe.

Norie was tired after our venture to Bento, which meant that she wanted to nap rather than start reading Andrea’s mother’s letters. I didn’t push her, just took the letters into the room I shared with Hugh and began to puzzle through them myself. Some words I caught—more than I’d expected. My
kanji
studies on the Internet had paid off. Still, I couldn’t possibly put pen to paper and start a translation.

While Norie was lying down, a phone call came from the Naganos. They were planning to fry tempura for dinner and wondered if Norie, Hugh, and I would like to join them. Tempura! It had been ages since I’d had the lightly batter-fried vegetables that were so delicious when homemade. I imagined myself biting into a tender slice of
kabocha
squash, or a sweet onion. I had wanted to stay home and read the letters, but this would be a nice thing to do first.

“How kind of you,” I said happily. “Hugh’s working too late to join us, but Norie and I are free. What can we bring?”

Betty Nagano demurred a million times, but by careful questioning, I deduced that she hadn’t planned dessert. I volunteered to bring some green tea ice cream. I would stop by the Japanese
store in Rockville to get it, before we went over. My aunt slept on, so I nudged her awake at five.

“How kind,” she said when she learned of the invitation. “It is so generous of them, I must bring a gift.”

I explained that Betty thought that green tea ice cream was fine, but Norie didn’t think it was enough, so I had to agree to let her buy
manju
, sweet-bean-paste cakes, at the Japanese grocery in Rockville. We were stuck in traffic all the way from Rockville to Bethesda, and the ice cream was somewhat melted when we arrived, so I was very glad that we had the
manju
as well. Betty put the ice cream in the freezer, and Yuji was pouring everyone tall glasses of Kirin when a beeping noise started.

“Someone’s cell phone?” I asked.

“We don’t have one,” Yuji said. “It’s coming from your handbag.”

I looked at my bag in shock, remembering at last the cell phone. Hugh had been adamant that I carry it everywhere, but I still wasn’t used to it. By the time I dug the phone out, the call had been forwarded to voice mail, so I had to awkwardly click my way into the messages to find out who had called.

It was Andrea phoning from the restaurant to say that she’d just heard from a neighbor that her apartment had been broken into. She’d already called the police, but she needed someone to be around when they arrived. Could I be there?

“What is it, Rei-chan? Andrea-san does not sound happy,” Norie said, standing behind me.

“I’m not sure I understand it all, but she needs help. I’ll call her at the restaurant first.” I was already dialing Bento.

“Good evening, this is Bento. How may I help you?” The accent was almost English, but clearly put on. I recognized Justin.

“Justin, it’s Rei. May I speak with Andrea?”


Ach, nein
.” Justin had switched to a phony German accent. “It’s verboten for staff to use this line—”

“I’ve seen a phone in the kitchen. Can’t you put me through on that line? Justin, this is a real emergency.”

“Oh, you mean Andrea’s break-in? She’s been moaning about
that ever since her neighbor called, but Marshall really can’t let her go, as we’re short-staffed again.”

So Andrea really needed my help. But I didn’t like the idea of going somewhere I didn’t know, in twilight. “Where exactly does Andrea live?”

“Somewhere off Fourteenth Street, near Logan Circle. One of those blocks in transition,” Justin added archly.

“Let me talk to Andrea,” I insisted.

“Enter at your own risk,” Justin said in his natural snippy tone as he put me on hold. After five long minutes, the phone finally rang through to the kitchen. Alberto picked up and handed me straight over to Andrea.

“Thanks for calling,” she said in a low voice. “Lucy, my neighbor, called me just about an hour ago. I need someone to be there to talk to the police.”

“Wouldn’t Lucy be a better person to talk to the cops? I mean, she would have noticed more things, and she’s on-site—”

“She’s not there anymore. Lucy’s not the kind who gets along with the police. After they left—and she didn’t get a look at them because she was hiding in her own bathroom while it was happening—she split. That’s another reason I need you there. Lucy said that my apartment door lock was ripped out. That means now anyone could go in and take stuff. I need you to take my mother’s papers over to your place for safekeeping.”

“But we already have the letters—”

“I know. I’m grateful for that. But the box has lots of pictures and files and records—all I have of her. Please, Rei.”

“Andrea, I’d like to help you with the police, too. But I’m in Bethesda right now, actually about to have dinner with some people—”

“Never mind, then,” Andrea said bleakly.

“Is there anyone else you could call?”

“It’s the dinner hour. Everyone in the world I could ask is working, except you. Look, I understand. It was a crazy idea—”

But the papers meant so much. They were Andrea’s only tie to the memory of her mother.

“I’ll see if I can get someone to go with me,” I said.

Before I’d finished what I wanted to say, Andrea had blurted out an address on P Street and hung up. Maybe she was under scrutiny in the kitchen, and had to end the call.

As I clicked my phone closed, I noticed that the Naganos and Norie were staring at me.

“It’s Andrea,” I said. “Someone broke into her apartment. The police are on their way, and she was hoping that I could go there to meet them. I don’t mean to upset dinner like this—”

“But it’s an emergency,” Betty said. “Of course.”

“I’m going to call Hugh, to see if he can leave his office and meet me. It’s almost seven already—he shouldn’t be working this late.” As I spoke, I was dialing. The phone in his office rang into voice mail, so I left a message and tried his cell number. Again, nothing. He wasn’t at the apartment either.

“I’ll go with you,” Norie said.

“I don’t feel comfortable putting you at risk. Besides, this is a special dinner! Tempura can’t wait,” I reminded her. It would get soggy and awful.

“We shall all go,” Yuji Nagano said firmly. “I will lead with Betty, and the two of you can follow.”

“It’s too much of an imposition—” Norie and I both cried this out in unison. Then we all laughed. We were being so Japanese.

In the end, we went in both cars, me following Yuji because it turned out that he had GPS in his Lexus sedan, and because I thought it mattered to him to lead. We drove in on Sixteenth Street, which was blissfully free of cars due to the hour. Yuji Nagano found a spot right in front of Andrea’s apartment, but he motioned that I should take it. He turned around and parked a half block south, which made me nervous; I’d noticed a run-down building nearby that I suspected was a shooting gallery because of some hollow-looking people coming from it. Justin’s words about the neighborhood being in transition didn’t seem so snobbish anymore. I’d been rash to come here, especially with three older people.

I got out of the Lexus, stepping carefully around the car to help Norie out.

“What’s that?” she asked. I followed her gaze to a syringe lying next to the curb.

“A syringe. Don’t touch it,” I added.

“Could a doctor’s office be nearby?” Norie looked around with a frown.

“I don’t think so, but Andrea’s building is right there.” I pointed to a narrow row house of about the same vintage as Hugh’s place in Adams-Morgan. The building, like others on the street, had lots of charming architectural flourishes—a witch-hat roof, curly plaster moldings over the windows, and a bay window. But unlike most of the houses, which had small, fancy gardens filled with flowers and unusual shrubs, Andrea’s building had peeling paint and a front yard full of weeds. The Naganos joined us, and we all moved forward to the building’s vestibule. A panel of names and buzzers by the door informed me that Andrea’s apartment was on the second floor. There was a door separating the buzzers from the staircase, but the lock was broken. Andrea’s door, on the second floor, hung open as well.

I reminded everyone not to touch anything as we walked inside. I used Norie’s clean handkerchief over my hand to flip on a light switch, to no avail. In the last bit of sunset coming through the windows, I could see that the place had been thoroughly tossed. Drawers hung open, furniture was overturned, and cushions were strewn everywhere.

The first thing I made sure of was that there was nobody still in the apartment. Walking through each room, I looked behind doors and under furniture. The Naganos and Norie clustered by the door. It was too dark for them; they were worried about bumping into things. I urged them to go back to Hugh’s car to wait. They could signal to the police, I convinced them, and also keep an eye out for me, in case anyone suspicious headed toward the building. I gave them my cell phone number and showed them that I was keeping the phone in my hand, turned on and at the ready, for word from them.

As careful as I was trying to be, I still hadn’t wanted them to
hang at my side while I looked around. I felt terrible for Andrea, whose place had been ruined. It was obvious that she had really cared for it. Her windows were draped with tasteful sheers, the walls were hung with old, framed fashion photographs, and the few pieces of furniture were all special and vintage-looking, including a dramatic red velvet sofa with an art deco shape. She wouldn’t want the Naganos to see the ruined, semi-shabby life of the daughter of a Japanese woman they’d once known.

I’d been so caught up in the atmosphere of Andrea’s apartment that I didn’t immediately look for the papers. But now I reminded myself that it was a priority. Andrea had told me that it was in her bedroom closet. I went back to the closet and opened the door. In it, I found dozens of skirts and dresses and blouses, neatly hung by color. And beneath it all was a jumble of high-heeled shoes, but nothing more.

I checked the other closet, just to make sure that I hadn’t misunderstood. But there was no box there, either. So the reason for her burglary was clear.

I heard the sound of a car stopping and looked out the window. A police cruiser had pulled up, and the Naganos and Norie were standing next to it. Norie pointed to the building, and the police officer started toward it. He was a baby-faced blond, the kind of guy who looked young enough to be the perfect decoy for a liquor-buying sting. By the time he got to the top of the stairs, I’d come to the door to meet him. He squinted in the dark at me as I introduced myself as a friend of Andrea who, since Andrea herself was at work, was there to assist with the police report.

“I need to speak to the complainant,” he said flatly. “When’s she coming back?”

“Not until after midnight,” I guessed. “But she told me she left the place at noon today, locked, and her neighbor heard somebody here around six o’clock tonight.”

“And when did this neighbor call the police?”

“She didn’t. She called Andrea instead, who called 911 directly.”

“I see. Any reason that you’re sitting in the dark?”

“None of the lights work.”

“Probably had her power cut off for nonpayment,” the cop said.

“I’m sure the power must be out for some other reason. Maybe the lights were cut by the guys who came in.”

“Only in made-for-TV-movies.” He snorted.

I ignored his cynicism. “I have a pretty good idea of what was taken, based on what my friend told me to look for. It’s not an ordinary burglary, but one relating to information theft.”

“Computer hard drive?”

“No, some personal papers,” I said. “Andrea and I went on a trip together, you see, and we were given these papers by some people who, well, might have regretted giving them. My guess is that they came to grab them back.”

“Papers, you say. Any idea of the estimated value?”

“There’s no dollar amount on them. It’s just that the papers are of great personal value.”

“Have you looked at them?”

I shook my head.

“Well, then how do you know they’re valuable?” The cop appeared pleased with his deductive skills.

“I don’t know exactly. I just wish you’d forward this report on to Detective Louis Burns.”

“He’s not in this division,” he said. “When your friend comes back, tell her to call and we’ll come out and write the report. In the meantime, she should get someone out to change the locks. Bunch of freaks live around here. They’ll be here in no time for that TV.”

What Andrea would worry about, I thought, was not a TV, but her clothes. What I’d seen in the closets was definitely worth stealing. When the cop departed, I used my cell phone to call the restaurant again, asking for Andrea.

“She’s gone,” Alberto told me after I’d been patched back by an insolent Justin to the kitchen.

“What?”

“She was so upset, she was dropping things. Marshall gave her the rest of the night off. She left about twenty minutes ago. I think she went back to the apartment, you know, to pick up things. Hey, your boyfriend called here, too, which really made, you know, Marshall crazy. We gotta stay off the line if it’s personal business.”

“Just tell me how Andrea’s getting home.” The sun had set at seven-thirty, around the time we’d left Bethesda. By now it was solidly dark.

“By the Metro. She takes that all the time.”

“Alberto, do you know if Andrea has a cell phone?”

“I think so,” Alberto said. “Doesn’t everyone?”

“Do you know the number?”

“No, I’m sorry. Marshall would have that on file in his office, but I don’t wanna disturb him because of a phone call—like I said, it’s not good to talk on the phone.”

“Thanks anyway. I’m sure she’ll be here soon.” I hung up feeling uneasy. Andrea would almost certainly be coming from the Howard University Metro stop because that was technically the closest stop on the Green Line—but it was a dicey walk at night. In fact, it made my solo walk from Dupont Circle to Adams-Morgan look as safe as a stroll through a shopping mall.

I heard voices downstairs, and stepped out into the hall.

“Rei-chan?” my aunt called in Japanese. “What are you still doing upstairs? Come downstairs and we’ll go back to your kind friends’ home for dinner.”

“Please, you go ahead,” I urged. “I heard Andrea will be arriving shortly, and I want to help her move her clothes or any other valuables that are left.”

“I don’t want to leave you here.”

“It’s perfectly safe. And please, I don’t want to put the Naganos through any more trouble. I’ll be over there within an hour or two to take you home.”

“You’ll miss the tempura.”

“It’s okay. I’ll walk you to the car.” I went with the three of them, apologizing profusely for the inconvenience I’d caused. Nothing
seemed to be going on at the shooting gallery, I noticed with a great deal of relief. But as their car sped away, I hurried back to the apartment, not wanting to take any more risks than were needed.

I made it up the stairs to the apartment, but just as I was about to step inside, I felt a presence.

By now, I’d learned to trust my instincts. Someone must have entered when I was outside. Now I was stuck, because the cell phone was halfway across the living room, over by the window where I’d used the last bit of light to look through my address book for the Bento phone number. All I could do was leave. I started to tiptoe back down the stairs.

“Who’s there?” a cold male voice asked—a voice that I recognized in a flood of exasperation and relief.

“Hugh!” I said, hurrying back up the stairs and through the apartment door. He was all the way over by the living-room bay window. “You scared me to death.”

“You’re scared?” He grabbed me tightly by the arms. “You—idiot! How could you come out here by yourself at night?”

“I didn’t come alone. I came with my aunt and the Naganos. Actually, I was just out sending them away, because the police had come and now I’m just waiting for Andrea—”

“When I finished swimming and checked my phone for messages, I couldn’t believe what I heard you’d done,” Hugh said. “I don’t think I’ve ever been as angry in my life.”

“That’s got to be an exaggeration,” I said. “As I just told you, I didn’t come alone—”

“But you sent them away! What kind of reckoning went into that situation?”

“Settle down, Hugh. Everything’s all right,” I said tightly. I wished he’d never come.

“For you maybe, but not for me. Let’s go!” He put his arm around me, and started down the stairs.

I balked. “Don’t manhandle me.”

Hugh let go. “I’m sorry. But don’t you feel—urgent—in an environment like this?”

“The theft has already happened,” I said. “Whoever came in took what remained of Andrea’s mother’s papers. Now I’m waiting to meet her, because she’s going to be devastated.”

“Meet her? How can you, in the dark? Rei, you’ve got to walk away from this girl and her problems. You’ve already lost our baby and I’m not going to stand by and lose you, too.”

“You do blame me for the baby,” I said, feeling an inward chill. “I knew you did.”

“I—I don’t blame you,” Hugh said in an unconvincing tone of voice. “But if you love me, you’ll listen for once. I want you to step back, to get out of this before something terrible happens again.”

I thought back on the past three years, the ones I’d spent with Hugh and also without him. We had survived misunderstandings and arguments galore, but he had never ordered me to do something.

I said, “No. I won’t stop helping her.”

Hugh was silent for a minute. When he spoke, his tone was frigid. “If you’d rather put her ahead of me, that’s your choice. But this is it for me. I will not marry someone bent on self-destruction.”

“What are you saying?” I was horrified.

“I’m saying that I’m leaving! Give me the car keys, okay? I had to take a taxi over here and it wouldn’t wait around.”

“If this is the end, you’ll want more than the keys.” I yanked the engagement ring off my finger and shoved it toward him. Of course, being dark, he didn’t see it and it bounced off him and onto the floor. I made a disgusted sound.

“What now?”

“I dropped the engagement ring. Don’t worry, I’ll find it. I can turn on the light on my watch.” I did that, and moved the tiny circle of light across the floor, looking to no avail.

“You can’t even give back a ring like a normal person would do.” Hugh sounded bitter.

“Well, you always said that I was not like the others.”

We were quiet then. There was nothing left to say.

BOOK: The Pearl Diver
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