Remember Tokyo Page 5

  “I could meet you at the hospital if you like.”

  “I’m going to be around the corner from the embassy for another meeting around eight thirty,” Seger said. “What if I dropped in on you there? We could head over to the hospital together afterward.”

  Charlie could think of no obvious conflict in his morning schedule. “Um, I don’t see why not. I’ll expect you around nine, then?”

  “Perfect, see you tomorrow.”

  Charlie slid his phone back in his pocket and climbed the stairs to his apartment, wondering what Seger thought Charlie could really do for him. He supposed a meeting couldn’t hurt. He entered his apartment, got a glass of cold water from the fridge, and sat on the couch. It was good news about Lepage. He had never actually seen the man conscious, much less spoken to him, but he felt like he knew him already, and Seger’s description of Yamaguchi’s prognosis sounded positive. Perhaps things were looking up.

  CHAPTER 7

  Charlie finished typing an email and glanced at the clock on his computer. It was almost nine thirty and there was no sign of Mike Seger. He had already tried his cell number and gotten no answer or voicemail option, and he had called down to reception ten minutes ago to confirm Seger wasn’t waiting there. Thinking that maybe Seger’s prior meeting had run late and anxious to get over to the hospital to talk to Rob Lepage for the first time, Charlie decided that Seger would have to catch up with him there. He headed downstairs and saw one of the embassy’s locally engaged drivers waiting by the side of a Toyota minivan, on time as always.

  “How long will it take us to get to Tokyo Medical University Hospital?” he asked, as the driver pulled out onto Aoyama-dori and joined a light stream of traffic.

  “Fifteen minutes,” the driver replied, glancing in the mirror. Charlie pulled out his phone and tried Seger’s number again, getting the same ten rings before the call disconnected. As they made their way west out of the government district of Akasaka and into Shinjuku, it occurred to him that Seger might have decided to go directly to the hospital. Charlie glanced out the window, noticing that although the districts were quite different, the crowds on the sidewalks and at the intersections all looked the same — the men in white shirts and dark suits, the women in designer dresses and leather boots. He had noticed the forecast on the television while he ate breakfast, unusually warm for late October, and the sun was indeed shining. A few minutes later, they pulled up to the main entrance of the hospital and Charlie got out, thanking the driver and telling him not to wait. He hurried inside, took the elevator up to the fifth floor, and rounded the corner to the reception area, where a nurse he hadn’t seen before was sitting behind the counter. After his best attempt at a natural-sounding greeting in Japanese, he reverted to English and hoped she could follow.

  “Dr. Yamaguchi is with another patient right now, but I will tell him you are waiting,” she said, pointing to the waiting area. He took a seat and was checking his BlackBerry for messages when he looked up and saw Aiko Kimura coming down the hall.

  “Good morning, Ms. Kimura.” He got up and met her in the hallway. Her reaction was her trademark cold smile, but there was something new in her expression today — concern, Charlie thought. “How’s he doing?”

  “His memory is affected,” she said, and Charlie suddenly felt bad about judging her. Perhaps she really did care about Lepage and just expressed her feelings differently than he would have expected. He had to remind himself that he was a visitor to another culture.

  “Is it bad? I mean, can he remember … you?”

  She shook her head. “He can’t remember anything at all. Not me, not what month it is, not what he’s doing in Tokyo.”

  “Dr. Yamaguchi said it might take some time for him to regain his memory after he came out of the coma,” he offered. “It’s probably temporary,” he added, suddenly realizing that Mike Seger had described Lepage as displaying at least intermittent lucidity the night before.

  “I have to make a phone call before the doctor comes back” she said as Charlie stepped aside to let her pass. Before she had reached the elevators, he called out after her, “You haven’t seen Mike Seger here this morning, have you?” Noticing her puzzled look, he added, “The man we met in the cafeteria yesterday.”

  She shook her head and pressed the call button for the elevator.

  Charlie went back to the uncomfortable chair in the waiting area and wondered what it would be like to discover that someone you had been intimate with for a couple of months suddenly didn’t know who you were. Off-putting at the very least. He was wondering how fruitful his interview with Lepage was going to be if the man didn’t even know his own name when Yamaguchi appeared at the door to the waiting area.

  “Mr. Hillier. I’m glad you are here. Please come.” He gestured toward Lepage’s room.

  “How is he?” Charlie asked, as they made their way down the hall.

  “His long- and short-term memory have both been affected … significantly.”

  “That doesn’t sound good.”

  “I’m still optimistic that he will make a full recovery, but it may take more time than I originally thought.”

  “I guess we should be glad he’s come out of the coma for good,” Charlie said. “When I heard the news from Mr. Seger last night, I was really relieved. By the way, you haven’t seen him here this morning have you? I was supposed to meet him at the embassy and he didn’t show.”

  Yamaguchi paused a few doors down from Lepage’s room. “No.” There was hesitation in his tone, and he was clearly struggling with whether to voice whatever else was on his mind.

  “Is there something wrong?”

  “I wanted to talk to you about Mr. Seger’s request.”

  “What request?”

  “He wanted me to release Mr. Lepage to his care. I assume from your reaction that he didn’t mention this to you?”

  “No, but surely he’s not yet ready to be discharged, anyway.”

  “Certainly not. But Mr. Seger was most insistent that he be discharged at the earliest possible opportunity. He offered to pay for all costs to date, and I believe he was trying to offer me more than that,” Yamaguchi continued, his expression conveying his embarrassment at the distasteful topic he was forced to discuss.

  “Are you saying he tried to bribe you? Maybe you misunderstood?” Charlie instantly regretted the choice of words. “I mean, I think maybe Mr. Seger’s intentions were honourable.”

  Yamaguchi’s expression told Charlie he was having none of it, though he didn’t oppose the statement. “He seemed quite eager that Mr. Lepage not stay in the hospital any longer than absolutely necessary.”

  “Did he say why?” It was sounding more and more bizarre to Charlie.

  Yamaguchi shook his head. “He seemed to think that Mr. Lepage would be better off, almost as though he was in some sort of danger here.”

  “Look, I know he can be a bit pushy, but I’ll straighten it out with him when I see him, and explain that Rob’s not going anywhere until you say so.”

  Yamaguchi seemed appeased by the assurance, and gave a slight bow to show his gratitude. “Would you like to talk to him now?”

  Charlie nodded, but as they approached the closed door, he felt a building tension for some unknown reason. Yamaguchi opened the door and led the way into the room. It had two beds, the first empty with the curtain surrounding it pulled back. On the far side of the room lay Lepage, his head to one side as he looked out the window at the bright sunshine. He turned as they arrived at the foot of his bed. His clear blue eyes gave him an intelligent air, but they seemed vacant as they scanned Charlie.

  “Good morning, Mr. Lepage. I’m Charlie Hillier, with the Canadian embassy here in Tokyo.”

  “Hi.” Lepage looked to Yamaguchi, as though for confirmation, before returning his attention to Charlie.

  “I’m really glad to see you out of the coma. How do you feel?”

  “Pretty good, I guess. I’d be a lot better if I could be ou
t there, though,” he said, pointing to the window. “Unfortunately, it looks like I’ll be here for a while,” he added, looking down the bed at his cast.

  “I understand that’ll heal just fine.” Charlie gave him a reassuring smile. “I was hoping to ask you a couple of questions. I don’t know if Dr. Yamaguchi mentioned it, but I’ve been assigned to your case by the embassy. It’s standard procedure whenever a Canadian is hospitalized.”

  “Yeah, he mentioned that,” Lepage replied, nodding at Yamaguchi, then glancing back at the window.

  “Apart from making sure you’re getting the treatment you need,” Charlie continued, “which Doctor Yamaguchi here is taking care of, I need to get in touch with your family and friends back home, so I can keep them informed of your condition.”

  Lepage nodded, but offered nothing more.

  “I haven’t been able to locate any direct family from the information I have, but you have had some friends here in Tokyo who have come and visited. Aiko Kimura, for example.”

  Lepage nodded again. “Yeah, I met her this morn— I mean, she came to see me.”

  “There’s another friend — Mike Seger, from Toronto,” Charlie continued, watching for any recognition in Lepage’s eyes at the name, but seeing none. “I think you spoke yesterday,” he added, pausing until it became clear that Lepage was unsure of whether the conversation had taken place. “He’ll be back later today.” Charlie looked to Yamaguchi and back to Lepage. “Do you remember the night of the accident at all, Mr. Le … can I call you Rob?”

  “Sure, yeah, Rob’s fine.”

  “Do you recall anything about the accident, Rob?”

  He shook his head. “Just what they’ve told me here. I was in a car crash, and I guess I’m kind of lucky to be alive.”

  Charlie nodded. “I think that’s probably true. Sounds like it was quite an accident. Do you know how long you’ve been in Tokyo?” Lepage seemed about to say something, then just shook his head. Charlie gave him an encouraging smile and tried again. “I understand from immigration records that you’ve been here for just under four months. What about your employer, do you know —”

  “Look, Mr. … Hillier. I can’t remember anything, okay?” Charlie noticed Lepage’s expression had changed, and his bright eyes look darker. He glanced out the window, before adding: “I can’t even remember my own fucking name.”

  “Perhaps we should let Mr. Lepage rest,” Yamaguchi suggested gently.

  “I’m sorry,” Lepage said, banging the side of the bed with his hand. “It’s just so goddamn frustrating.”

  Charlie got up out of his chair. “You’ve got nothing to apologize for, and the doctor’s probably right — we should leave you to rest.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card, scribbling a number across the bottom. “This is my card, and that’s my cell number. If you remember something, or if you need anything, please don’t hesitate to get in touch, day or night. Even if you just want to talk to someone.”

  Lepage nodded and accepted the card, looking at the red and white of the little flag in the top corner. “So I guess I really am Canadian, huh?”

  Charlie smiled. “You bet.”

  “Thanks, I appreciate you coming by, and again, I’m sor—”

  Charlie held up his hand. “You’re in good hands here, Rob. You just need some time, and some rest, and I’m sure it’ll all come back to you.”

  They were back at the reception area before Charlie spoke. “I can’t imagine what he must be going through — a real nightmare. Do you really think it will come back to him?”

  Yamaguchi nodded. “Did you notice he remembered your name?”

  “Is that good?”

  “It means his short-term memory is already repairing itself.”

  “But he didn’t seem to remember Mike Seger at all, let alone talking to him yesterday.”

  “His memories may come and go,” Yamaguchi said calmly. “He may have difficulty recalling things that he had no trouble describing just hours earlier. Though it may seem unusual, this is … expected. I am confident he will regain most of his memory, though there may be some gaps.”

  “How long do you think he’ll be here?”

  Yamaguchi shrugged. “His physical injuries, combined with the after effects of the coma, will keep him in bed for another week. After that, it will depend on how he responds emotionally. Amnesia can be a very traumatic experience in itself, and you can see that he’s not unaffected.”

  “Can’t say I blame him.”

  Yamaguchi smiled. “But he’s young and physically strong, so I remain optimistic. He will have to be discharged into someone’s care, though,” he said.

  Charlie considered the only two possibilities — Seger, who hadn’t bothered to show up this morning at all, and the cagey Kimura. Neither seemed a great candidate, but maybe he was being too harsh. Besides, from what he could see, there was no one else.

  “I should get back to the embassy. Please let me know if anything changes. And I’ll have a talk with Seger, don’t worry. If you see him first, just tell him to get in touch with me.”

  Charlie made his way out into the warm midmorning sun and considered emailing the driver, but decided to take the subway. He was getting more and more familiar with the efficient system, and it would probably end up being quicker, anyway. As he descended the escalator to the platform level, he thought of Lepage. It was great news that he was out of the coma and apparently on his way to a full recovery, but he just couldn’t imagine how lost he must feel, knowing nothing of the past. As for Seger, he wondered what was behind his apparent insistence to have Lepage released into his custody when it was clearly premature.

  Charlie had been back at the office for about an hour, and was on hold with an administrative assistant at Miton trying to work out a mutually acceptable time for a meeting to go over the proposal for the new staff quarters development, when Karen Fraser appeared at his door. Her usually playful expression had given way to something much more sombre. He put his hand over the receiver and mouthed “You okay?”

  She nodded, but it was unconvincing. “Come see me when you’re done,” she whispered. A few interminable minutes later, with the property meeting tentatively set, he hung up the phone and headed two doors down, where he found Fraser in her chair, her eyes trained on her computer monitor.

  “What’s up?”

  “What’s the name of the Canadian guy — the friend who was in town to meet Lepage?”

  “Mike Seger, why?”

  “I got a call from the Tokyo Metropolitan Police. They’ve got a guy with a Canadian passport in that name.”

  “They’re holding him? Why?”

  “They’re not holding him … he’s in the morgue.” Charlie stood frozen in place at the door as he processed the information, barely hearing Fraser confirm the obvious. “He’s dead, Charlie.”

  CHAPTER 8

  Charlie got off the train at Kasumigaseki Station and walked up the stairs to street level. He emerged onto a wide boulevard, bordered by tall, grey monolithic structures that suited their government tenants well, Charlie thought, as he noticed the usual assortment of dark suits and white shirts on the busy sidewalk. Unlike some other parts of the city though, virtually all of the men here wore ties. As he walked north toward the large green expanse that surrounded the Imperial Palace in the distance, he noticed one building that stood out from all the rest. Unlike its towering geometric neighbours, it was only a few stories tall, in red and yellowy brick and of an ornate Victorian design, in stark contrast to the sea of grey all around him. He checked his map and realized he was looking at the Justice building, which meant that the building opposite, on his side of the street, was the headquarters of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police. He approached the entrance, where a white-gloved guard in an immaculate blue uniform eyed him suspiciously. Charlie glanced at the gun at the man’s waist and bowed in greeting.

  “I’m here to meet with Inspector Kobayashi,” he said, then presente
d the guard with his business card. The guard seemed a bit put off, but accepted the card after a moment’s hesitation, then said something in Japanese accompanied by the universal hand gesture for wait. He returned from the little hut a few seconds later with an older man wearing a dark suit and tie, who gave a curt bow before speaking in a clipped and formal tone.

  “Please, come this way.”

  Charlie followed him through the gate and into a reception area, where he was asked for his passport and given a visitor’s pass. Then they were in an elevator on their way to the twenty-second floor. He followed his guide through a maze of doors and whitewashed hallways until they came to another reception area.

  “Please,” the man said, gesturing to one of the two chairs before disappearing through a secure door. He had just settled in the uncomfortable molded plastic chair when the door clicked open again and a woman in a dark pantsuit appeared, her black hair tied back in a severe bun. Her inquisitive eyes met his, and he couldn’t help thinking he saw a glimmer of delight at the obvious surprise on Charlie’s face.

  “Charlie Hillier,” he said, standing and bowing at the same time, still wondering if she was here for him. He had not been expecting a female inspector, and it occurred to him that she was the first woman he had seen since entering the building.

  “Inspector Chikako Kobayashi,” she replied. Whereas his greeting had been hurried and awkward, Kobayashi had managed an elegant bow while also offering her card in the standard, two-handed presentation, name facing out. Charlie accepted it, fumbled in his pocket for his card holder, and came up empty, realizing he had left it in his desk drawer. He fished a dog-eared card from his inside jacket pocket and tried to compensate for it with his most formal presentation. She gave him a friendly smile as she accepted the card.