Tokyo Espionage

Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Meisa was in the midst of a meeting with three men. She spoke quickly, angrily, and although the conversation was in Japanese, I understood that she was upset. My suspicions were confirmed when, after the men had left, I approached, and saw that her body was tense; her eyes distracted.

“We’re going to a bar,” she at last said. “I have a meeting, then we can enjoy what remains of the evening.”

“Does that include hot wax?” I asked alluding to a few nights ago.

“No. I just want your company tonight.”

Her chauffeur drove us somewhere in 6 Chome. I recognised the area though I didn’t know it well. A neon light flashed something in Kanji.

Inside the club was a pole demarcating the center; leather chairs circled small platforms. I thought the room was empty until I saw a solitary man in one corner. I didn’t get a good look at him: Japanese, short, maybe 40’s, at a glance that was all I could tell.

Meisa said, “Go over to the bar, and make yourself a drink.” She wore a serious expression. “Don’t look; don’t listen.”

I felt the eyes of the unknown in the back of my head, but I was a professional: I walked to the bar, and made myself an old fashioned. Then I sat with my back to them, didn’t look, and I certainly didn’t listen.

They talked for the best part of an hour. When Meisa told me to come over, the unknown had left. I didn’t pry any further because it wasn’t my place to.

The bartender returned, so did the pretty waitresses. Meisa said something in Japanese, and a girl came in. Dressed only in lingerie, she got on the glass platform, and started dancing. Her head fell back; her long hair was like a curtain drape. I looked at Meisa, and saw that although her eyes were on the dame, her mind was really elsewhere.

I remained sipping whisky, watching the beauty dance, and I began to wonder; I began to think; and I began to worry.

***

I walked for about 20 minutes before I found a small café, not a big chain, but I saw in the window that they offered free internet. Meisa had left, and in the vicinity of her discreet apartment, I didn’t know where I was. I needed to get back to the Bvlgari, and my Exige. For that I needed a map.

I went in the cafe, and ordered a caramel macchiato. Then - as I waited - I whipped out my phone, still no 4g. I plugged in the Wi-Fi password from the counter, and checked out Google maps. I was in Yokokawa, off Kasuga Dori. I clocked the nearest subway stop as Kinshicho, took a screenshot, and sat back.

When I looked up, I caught a man staring at me. I’d lived in many countries; it wasn’t uncommon for people to look at the ‘foreigner.’ But Tokyo wasn’t like that, and this guy seemed too debonair to be distracted by a white European. When the waiter brought over my coffee, I took the chance to get a second glimpse at the unknown, but he was tapping on the glass of his Galaxy Tab. He wasn’t looking at me any longer.

I figured Meisa was having me followed, and made a note to bring it up with her.

***

When I at last made it to the office, Lily wore a concerned look, I was half an hour late, and still in the same clothes as the night before. I gave her a forced smile that did little to alleviate her worry.

From my sofa I saw – on the flat screen - NHK doing a piece on none other than Meisa Kato. The Japanese hieroglyphics scrolling across the bottom wasn’t something that I could understand. The reporter’s voice was equally unintelligible, but I could interpret the pictures. There was a montage of Meisa smiling, waving to crowds of people; flash photography lit up her face. Then it cut to a map where some lines were being drawn. I’d seen something similar on English news channels: they were talking about China’s extension of the air defence zone. In short China was claiming more territory, territory that encroached upon Japanese borders. Meisa was the Secretary of Defence, so it made sense that she would be in the spotlight.