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Authors: Sujata Massey
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gritted teeth, I said, “He’s a fast learner. Let’s go into the study—”
“So what exactly are you dealing? I hear Ecstasy’s big here.”
He thought I was a drug dealer. I squeaked, “Not drugs! I’m an antiques dealer!”
“Really? Don’t blow a gasket.” Angus laughed.
“This is your room,” I said, trying to regain my composure. “There’s an apartment key on the tansu —the bedside chest. I covered it with a protective cloth, but please use a coaster if you put any kind of beverage down on it. I’d rather you didn’t smoke in the apartment, because the furniture and art are very delicate. If you must have a cigarette, you can smoke on the balcony.” I realized belatedly I was sounding like my mother.
“Got it, mum.” He put his hands up in mock surrender.
“About dinner,” I began. “I marinated eggplant and also made some soba noodles and a cucumber salad.”
“I’m no flower-eater!”
“Hugh will help you order some take-out food, then.” I was exasperated. “There are a ton of menus in the kitchen left over from his bachelor days.”
Hugh finally arrived, but before I could tell him about dinner, he spoke in a low, hard voice. “You. Me. Bedroom.”
“What are you, Tarzan?” I protested against a background of Angus’s ribald laughter.
Hugh ushered me in and slammed the door. He had been quiet on the car ride home, and I thought he was tired. He’d been seething.
“How could you let this happen? My God, Rei.”
“I just went to the park to take care of my problems. It all went wrong—”
“Mr. Ota told me the police chief says you’re very lucky to have escaped.”
“From whom?”
“Jun Kuroi, if that’s even his real name! Whoever heard of a guy named Jun? And he could be charged with kidnapping or worse.”
“If Jun were a dangerous person, the police would hardly let him go home,” I pointed out.
“His father’s coming to speak to the police, not to take him home. I didn’t say anything earlier because I didn’t want to upset you.”
“Upset me? That’s putting it mildly. You tricked me into leaving!”
“The police needed to ask Jun more questions, not you. But what I’d like to know is the depth of your connection to the suspect.”
“Do you mean to ask, was I meeting him for an afternoon quickie? No, Hugh. He’s just a guy I met in Hita who helped me fix the car’s taillight and is doing everything to help me get my money back for the tansu .”
“That bloody two million yen! How many times have I told you I’ll absorb the cost? It’s nothing to me!”
Angus began pounding on the door. “Come on out! No time for shagging.”
I stalked out of the bedroom, brushing by Angus, who was holding a crystal snifter filled with what smelled like Hugh’s favorite eighteen-year-old Scotch whiskey.
“Mmm, that will go well with pizza or whatever you wind up eating,” I said to Angus.
“Take-away’s a good idea.” Hugh was pouring his own glass of Scotch. “Hey, Angus, careful with the stereo. What do you want to play?”
“I’ve got Nine Inch Nails, Skinny Puppy, and Revolting Cocks.” Angus went on fiddling with Hugh’s expensive tape deck. “The cassettes I’ve been carrying around are a couple of years old. It’s hard to stay connected when traveling.”
“Maybe you should turn on the radio,” I suggested. “There’s an FM station that plays the latest international stuff.”
“I like industrial music, not sickening pop,” Angus said.
“Give Angus a chance to play what he wants,” said Hugh, surprising me with his sharpness.
“So what do you want to listen to first? Revolting Cocks are kind of dancey, Skinny Puppy is more noise, and everyone knows the Nails—though I’m not sure you’ll have heard this remix from the Lost Highway soundtrack.”
“Anything.” Hugh sank onto the sofa, shutting his eyes.
“Nine Inch Nails, then.” Angus slid a cassette into Hugh’s state-of-the-art tape deck, and as a
“So what exactly are you dealing? I hear Ecstasy’s big here.”
He thought I was a drug dealer. I squeaked, “Not drugs! I’m an antiques dealer!”
“Really? Don’t blow a gasket.” Angus laughed.
“This is your room,” I said, trying to regain my composure. “There’s an apartment key on the tansu —the bedside chest. I covered it with a protective cloth, but please use a coaster if you put any kind of beverage down on it. I’d rather you didn’t smoke in the apartment, because the furniture and art are very delicate. If you must have a cigarette, you can smoke on the balcony.” I realized belatedly I was sounding like my mother.
“Got it, mum.” He put his hands up in mock surrender.
“About dinner,” I began. “I marinated eggplant and also made some soba noodles and a cucumber salad.”
“I’m no flower-eater!”
“Hugh will help you order some take-out food, then.” I was exasperated. “There are a ton of menus in the kitchen left over from his bachelor days.”
Hugh finally arrived, but before I could tell him about dinner, he spoke in a low, hard voice. “You. Me. Bedroom.”
“What are you, Tarzan?” I protested against a background of Angus’s ribald laughter.
Hugh ushered me in and slammed the door. He had been quiet on the car ride home, and I thought he was tired. He’d been seething.
“How could you let this happen? My God, Rei.”
“I just went to the park to take care of my problems. It all went wrong—”
“Mr. Ota told me the police chief says you’re very lucky to have escaped.”
“From whom?”
“Jun Kuroi, if that’s even his real name! Whoever heard of a guy named Jun? And he could be charged with kidnapping or worse.”
“If Jun were a dangerous person, the police would hardly let him go home,” I pointed out.
“His father’s coming to speak to the police, not to take him home. I didn’t say anything earlier because I didn’t want to upset you.”
“Upset me? That’s putting it mildly. You tricked me into leaving!”
“The police needed to ask Jun more questions, not you. But what I’d like to know is the depth of your connection to the suspect.”
“Do you mean to ask, was I meeting him for an afternoon quickie? No, Hugh. He’s just a guy I met in Hita who helped me fix the car’s taillight and is doing everything to help me get my money back for the tansu .”
“That bloody two million yen! How many times have I told you I’ll absorb the cost? It’s nothing to me!”
Angus began pounding on the door. “Come on out! No time for shagging.”
I stalked out of the bedroom, brushing by Angus, who was holding a crystal snifter filled with what smelled like Hugh’s favorite eighteen-year-old Scotch whiskey.
“Mmm, that will go well with pizza or whatever you wind up eating,” I said to Angus.
“Take-away’s a good idea.” Hugh was pouring his own glass of Scotch. “Hey, Angus, careful with the stereo. What do you want to play?”
“I’ve got Nine Inch Nails, Skinny Puppy, and Revolting Cocks.” Angus went on fiddling with Hugh’s expensive tape deck. “The cassettes I’ve been carrying around are a couple of years old. It’s hard to stay connected when traveling.”
“Maybe you should turn on the radio,” I suggested. “There’s an FM station that plays the latest international stuff.”
“I like industrial music, not sickening pop,” Angus said.
“Give Angus a chance to play what he wants,” said Hugh, surprising me with his sharpness.
“So what do you want to listen to first? Revolting Cocks are kind of dancey, Skinny Puppy is more noise, and everyone knows the Nails—though I’m not sure you’ll have heard this remix from the Lost Highway soundtrack.”
“Anything.” Hugh sank onto the sofa, shutting his eyes.
“Nine Inch Nails, then.” Angus slid a cassette into Hugh’s state-of-the-art tape deck, and as a
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