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  “Mr. Sato is giving us his private table at Hakugei,” Tanaka whispered to Cain. “This is very cool. It’s a very expensive restaurant.”

  “Expensive doesn’t always mean good,” Cain replied. He wasn’t trying to be dismissive; he was just managing his expectations.

  “Hakugei means ‘white whale.’ It’s illegal now in Japan, but my father told me this restaurant secretly sells it. I’ve never had it before, but I’m told it’s very tasty.”

  “Whale doesn’t seem very appetizing to me, Tanaka. Sounds fatty and rubbery. How about a steak house?”

  “There will be sake, too. Lots of it.”

  Cain thought it over. “Okay, but I ain’t staying at a capsule hotel afterward again. Been there, done that.”

  “Got the T-shirt?” Tanaka smiled.

  Cain laughed. “I love it when you get American humor.”

  “Hakugei—it’s a deal.” Tanaka shook Cain’s hand. “When should I make the reservation?”

  “Friday night’s always a good time to blow off some steam.”

  Chapter 48

  “Let’s shut it down,” Cain said to Tanaka that Friday evening after they had been working for more than ten hours.

  “I’ve been looking forward to Hakugei all week,” Tanaka said with a big grin.

  “This whale you keep droning on and on about must be the best in the world.”

  “Are you going to at least try it?” Tanaka asked.

  “Which is better? Eel or whale?”

  “Both are delicious,” he said. “But I prefer whale.”

  “Well, I’m going to have to drink a lot of sake before I start eating raw whale,” Cain said as they headed out of the office.

  The restaurant was a stone building with bamboo and wooden accents. The entryway was illuminated by amber lighting. The hostess, who was dressed like a geisha, greeted them upon entry. She provided Cain and Tanaka with slippers. They quickly put them on and trailed the hostess as she led them to their table. It was an antique solid-wood table that sat about a foot above a traditional tatami mat. Cain and Tanaka kneeled on the soft but firm mat, which was made of rice straw.

  A few moments later, a group of customers walked in. Cain saw the manager covertly slide his finger down his cheek to signal one of the other well-dressed staffers.

  Tanaka was reading the menu and did not see the exchange, so Cain asked him what it meant.

  “They are realtors,” Tanaka said.

  “Are you telling me those people sell houses?”

  “No.” Tanaka lowered his voice. “Realtors is a slang word for yakuza because they own so much real estate, and they use the property to hide their illegal money legitimately. Or so I’m told by my father.”

  “What’s the mafia doing in here?”

  “Same reason other Japanese come here: it’s a place for rich people to eat expensive and illegal food. It is also a status symbol.”

  “And to think,” Cain said, “our American mafia just likes spaghetti with meatballs.”

  Tanaka laughed. “I’m sure yakuza like spaghetti with meatballs, too. And they probably like the Godfather movie as well.” Tanaka did his best Marlon Brando impression: “I’ll make him an offer he can’t refuse.”

  “If your house is as small as my apartment, a horse’s head wouldn’t even fit!” Cain said with a half smile. “On second thought, it wouldn’t even fit on the mattress in my apartment!”

  Cain’s apartment, one of over four hundred located in an apartment complex that towered over downtown Yokohama, was furnished, but like most Japanese apartments, it was tiny. Cain reckoned it was only about five hundred square feet. His refrigerator resembled a college dorm fridge, and his single bed was so small his feet dangled off the end. So Cain had thrown his mattress on the floor and slept there. The stove and oven dials were all in Japanese, so he never used them. His favorite room was the bathroom. It was the most utilitarian. The toilet seat was heated, and the shower and a small washer-dryer combo were next to it. There were several complicated panels that controlled everything, but Cain didn’t know what half the buttons did.

  Tanaka raised his sake cup. “To Japanese life.”

  “Kanpai,” Cain replied.

  They drank warm sake as their elite meals were delivered on white plates with wasabi on the side.

  Cain used his hashi to pick up a piece of food, dipped it in wasabi, and started chewing it. “What is this?” He continued chewing the fatty meat. “Is this the whale you’ve been talking about? It tastes like boiled beef!”

  “It is the liver of the fugu.”

  “Come on, Tanaka. I’m not interested in experimenting with my taste buds tonight. I just want a good meal after all the hard work we’ve been doing.”

  “The liver of the fugu is the most poisonous—”

  “The most poisonous!” Cain put his napkin to his mouth and subtly spit out his fugu.

  “But it is also the tastiest,” Tanaka said. “Before it was made illegal in Japan, my father used to enjoy it very much.”

  “Don’t you find it odd?” Cain asked. “In a country where 99.9 percent of the population are rule followers, Sato-san sent us here—to a restaurant that serves illegal dishes?”

  “Not really,” Tanaka said. “I think he is part owner of this restaurant—or at least was before all the news about the company.”

  “Really?” Cain was always interested in learning more about the people he protected. “Tell me more.”

  “He used to come here a lot. But after the news of the company was published, I think he sold his partnership in the restaurant.”

  “Interesting.” Cain ruminated on that for a moment. “Was that in the news?”

  “No. Sato-san is a private man. He’s normally not in the news, except when he builds a new orphanage.”

  “A new orphanage?”

  “Hai, hai, hai.” Tanaka’s voice reflected his admiration. “Sato-san spends a lot of his money on helping kids without families. He also helps find them work at our factory. I think Morita-san was once an orphan.”

  “Is that why Morita-san is his driver?”

  “Japanese culture places a high importance on loyalty—sometimes more than on talent. Sato-san will keep Morita-san as his driver until Morita-san can no longer do the job.”

  “Well, he certainly impressed me the other day. Gives credence to not judging a book by its cover.”

  “But Sato-san also realized he needed an expert to keep him alive. That’s why you were chosen. As a Japanese CEO of one of the most powerful car companies in the world, he knew it was culturally important to highlight the good of Japan, especially because of the bad press he is receiving. That’s why at the award ceremony he thanked me for helping you assimilate.”

  “Assimilate?” Cain chuckled. “I still feel like a bull in a china shop here.”

  “It will take time,” Tanaka said. “Japanese culture goes back thousands of years. Only 2 percent of our population is non-Japanese. We all share the same language, the same religion, the same customs.”

  “How long, you think, before I start blending in?”

  “Um, maybe twenty, twenty-five years,” Tanaka said matter-of-factly.

  Cain laughed out loud. “I like you, Tanaka-san. You keep it real.”

  “That’s why,” Tanaka continued, “I would like to take you to a special place—a fun place.”

  “Why do I get the impression you and I don’t see eye to eye on fun?”

  “We can sing karaoke!”

  Cain laughed again. “If I’m singing, the customers are gonna scatter. The place won’t make any business. They’ll have to close down.”

  “Seriously, I would like to take you to the Angel Cloud. It’s a popular hangout for expats and Japanese who want to sing with foreigners like yourself. It’s a very short walk from here. It will help you become more like a Japanese man.”

  “I won’t sing, but I’ll join you for a cigar and American whiskey. I need something st
ronger than that sake to wash that fugu down! I can still taste that poison in my throat.”

  “Great!” Tanaka raised his wooden sake cup into the air.

  Cain did the same. “Here’s to turning Japanese in twenty-five years.”

  “Kanpai!” Tanaka said. “And to tonight—a night we will never forget.”

  Chapter 49

  Above the solid-wood door was a sign that said ANGEL CLOUD. Below that: WHERE DREAMS TAKE FLIGHT. Tanaka pushed open the door and held it for Cain.

  “The party is upstairs,” Tanaka said.

  They ascended the twenty or so steps, which led to a large open-bay room filled with couches, tables, a bar, and an area for singing karaoke. The place was crowded, but the manager immediately escorted Cain and Tanaka to a large kidney-shaped booth in the far corner. They were seated for only a few seconds before an older Japanese woman in a traditional black cherry blossom kimono came over to their table.

  “Welcome,” she said with a slow and methodical bow. “We are very pleased you are here tonight.”

  Cain smiled and returned the bow. “Thank you for the welcome, and for the royal treatment. I don’t know what we did to deserve one of your best tables on such a crowded night.”

  “Our manager recognized you from the Japan Times.”

  Cain turned to Tanaka. “I guess my fifteen minutes of fame is going to last a lot longer here.”

  “I would like to send over two of our most beautiful women to entertain you this evening,” the woman said.

  Cain opened his mouth to protest, but the petite lady had already bowed and shuffled away toward a group of women standing next to the bar.

  “I realize she was speaking English, but I hope I misunderstood. What does ‘entertain you this evening’ mean?”

  “This is a kyabakura,” Tanaka said. “It’s a hostess bar. She is a mama-san.”

  “You mean a madam?”

  “No,” Tanaka replied quickly. “More like a manager of the hostesses. It’s not what you think, Cain-san. This is very popular in Japan. It’s just fun conversation and drinking.”

  “Good. I’m down for good convo and drinking.”

  “Especially after this week, right?” Tanaka asked.

  Cain smiled. “I’m down for it any day of the week, actually.” His smile widened and he began laughing.

  “Why are you laughing?”

  “Tanaka-san, do you know what irony is?”

  “I think so.”

  “Too much media attention here got me a ‘lady of the evening,’” Cain said with air quotes. “But not so long ago, a lady of the evening got me too much media attention.”

  “Sounds like one of your stories for another time, as you often say.”

  Both laughed.

  “I’m sorry,” Cain said. “I can’t help it. I grew up in a storytelling family.”

  “I know,” Tanaka said. “When I worked with Bonnie, she used to tell marvelous stories, too.”

  “She and I get it from our pops. I’ll introduce you if I can talk ’em into making the long flight out here.”

  “I would like that very much,” Tanaka said. “My father is not a storyteller. He is very typical Japanese. Very serious and quiet.”

  “He must be very proud of you for saving our bacon during the attack.”

  “He’s not proud. The van had two flat tires, and I could not protect Sato-san.”

  “That’s simply not true. If you were not there to contact the police and give them our vehicle info and direction of travel, I’m not sure how much longer our car was gonna hold up. It was taking a real beating.”

  The mama-san returned with two stunning young Eastern European women who looked as though they should be on the cover of a fashion magazine. “May I introduce Sabrina and Natasha?”

  “Hello,” the girls said, smiling naturally.

  Cain and Tanaka sprang from the booth, allowing the hostesses to take the center seats.

  “Please enjoy your evening, gentlemen.” The mama-san bowed and disappeared into the crowd, which seemed to be growing.

  “Thank you.” Sabrina smiled as she tossed her long, dark locks of hair off her shoulder. Her blue eyes sparkled against the stark contrast of her black hair.

  “Where are you from?” Cain asked.

  “Where do you think I’m from?” she asked with a flirtatious tone.

  “Eastern Europe.”

  “You’re getting warmer.” She smiled.

  “Romania,” Cain blurted out.

  “Yes!” She seemed genuinely surprised. “How did you guess that?”

  “I recognized your accent. I’ve been to Romania a few times.”

  “Really? I never meet anybody in here who has been to my country before.”

  “Well, I’m not just anybody.” The sake Cain had had at Hakugei made it even easier for him to banter back and forth with her.

  Sabrina laughed. “True. You are somebody.”

  Cain and Sabrina laughed together and she touched his shoulder.

  “Why were you in Romania?”

  “I was on a mission,” Cain said, lowering his voice.

  Sabrina leaned in. “What kind of mission?”

  Cain leaned in closer. “If I told you, I’d have to kill you.”

  She shook her head and smiled at him.

  The bar manager stopped by their table. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  “You, too,” Cain replied. “Thank you for the hospitality tonight.”

  “Thank you for protecting Sato-san. He used to be one of our favorite customers, but we have not seen him in several weeks.”

  Mr. Sato hangs out here? Cain thought. The multimillion-dollar CEO? I can’t see him singing, but I guess I can imagine him enjoying the company of these women.

  Tanaka stopped talking with the Russian hostess, Natasha, and turned to the manager. “Sato-san is very busy managing the company. He has been working day and night. But he is well, and I will let him know you have asked about him. I am sure that will please him.”

  “Arigato,” the manager gratefully responded. “Also, I would like to present you with a bottle of our finest champagne. On the house, of course.” He motioned to a bartender, who brought over some glasses and a bottle of Dom Pérignon nestled in a silver bucket of ice.

  Cain and Tanaka thanked the manager, and then toasted each other.

  “I toast to Cain-san and his new life in Japan.”

  “To turning Japanese in twenty years—maybe only ten after tonight. Kanpai!”

  Tanaka opened his blazer and reached into his inner pocket. He pulled out two cigars and held them in the air. “Here you go,” he said as he handed one to Cain.

  “First Sabrina, then Dom Pérignon, and now a Romeo y Julieta. I can’t wait to see what’s next,” Cain exclaimed. He was having a fantastic time. Cain cut the tip off his cigar and placed it in his mouth. He reached into his pocket to grab whatever box of matches or Zippo he had that day. Before he could, Sabrina lit his cigar with a lighter she had hidden somewhere on her body.

  “Wow!” Cain exclaimed. “You’re quite resourceful.”

  “I take care of my favorite customers.”

  “Am I already a favorite customer?”

  “Yes.” She smiled.

  “Well, then you should know I prefer to light my cigars with a match, instead of a cigarette lighter.”

  “I will remember that for next time.”

  Cain chuckled. “You’re confident I’ll be back, huh?”

  “Oh, you’ll come back to see me, or I’ll have to kill you.” They both laughed.

  The four of them drank champagne and enjoyed lighthearted conversation. Music played in the background as various customers sang different American songs in the karaoke area.

  “Shall we order another bottle of champagne?” Tanaka asked.

  “Let’s ask the ladies,” Cain suggested.

  They smiled and nodded yes, which didn’t surprise Cain.

  “Another bott
le it is.” Cain smiled.

  Sabrina and Natasha stood and went to the bar to get another bottle of Dom Pérignon.

  “Tanaka, this is actually more fun than I had imagined.”

  “I knew you would like kyabakura.”

  Through the noise of the crowd, Cain heard a man and a woman singing a Frank Sinatra and Sammy Davis Jr. duet. Cain swayed his head to the music and sang along: “Walking down the av-e-nue. Me, and my shadow.”

  “I like this song, too,” Tanaka said.

  “My mom and pops had this record. They played it all the time in our living room. My sister and I would perform this duet for our parents.”

  “You told me you couldn’t sing.”

  “Well.” Cain smirked. “Not good enough to get paid for it. I’ve gotta see who is singing this song. She’s impressive, and definitely American.”

  He stood and walked through the smoke-filled lounge toward the karaoke area. Onstage was a very fit Japanese man who appeared to be in his late twenties or early thirties. Despite being inside the club, he wore a pair of rose-colored Matsuda sunglasses with gold frames. Cain noted that the man seemed different from other Japanese he had encountered—he didn’t seem to adhere to Japan’s strict societal norms. He wore a typical dark suit and white shirt but with a bright-purple tie. On his wrist was an expensive watch with an overexaggerated case and crown. The wristband was bright orange. It was easy for Cain to see, because the man’s arm was draped over the American woman’s shoulder, his hand close to her breast.

  What the hell is Bonnie doing here? Cain thought as he tried to make sense of the situation. She must be here with some of her American friends, right?

  But the way this man was touching his sister made him mad, so Cain walked onstage and removed the man’s arm from Bonnie’s shoulder, and instead put his own arm around her. Together, Bonnie and Cain finished crooning the song: “Me, and my shadow. All alone and feeling blue.” They feigned taking cowboy hats off their heads, putting them on their feet, and kicking them into the air.

  The crowd erupted in applause.

  “Smile and give them a show,” Bonnie said to her brother. They bowed to the cheering audience, but Cain observed two men at a nearby table who were not clapping. They stood and started walking toward the stage.