Chapter 23
CHAPTER 23
JANE TOOK A second to gather her thoughts then answered, her voice soft. “I think it’s fifteen years, although I lost track of time. I counted the days to start off with, but when I lost hope, time didn’t matter anymore.”
“How did you end up at the compound?”
“They took me when I was walking home from school in Tokyo.”
“Who did? The Ramos family?”
Jane gave a small shake of her head. “No, others. I barely remember their faces now. A car pulled up next to me, and a man asked for directions. I was trying to help when someone put a cloth over my face from behind. When I woke up, I was on a boat. Not a big ship. It had a few rooms underneath the deck where they kept the girls.” She paused for a second to compose herself.
“You don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to.”
But once she’d started, it seemed she wanted to carry on. Maybe, like me, she needed to get things off her chest.
“The men on the boat, they did things to me. Things I didn’t understand at the time. I only knew it hurt. They made me bleed, and many times I wished I would die. Once, I tried to throw myself over the side, but they caught me and locked me back up in one of the bedrooms, handcuffed to a rail. After that, they left me in Colombia.”
“At the Ramos compound?”
“Yes. At first, I was a plaything for the guards, but they lost interest in me as I got older. I was more use to them for cleaning and doing the laundry.” Her eyes closed and she gave a tiny smile. “Then I met Carlos, and I didn’t want to die so much anymore.”
I felt like crying myself at what she’d been through. Men had forced themselves on me twice in my life and the feeling of dirtiness, of being defective, of having done something wrong, still overwhelmed me when I thought about it. To withstand fifteen years of that proved she had a strength few others possessed. There and then, I promised myself I’d do anything I could to help her. She was still in Black’s arms, but I felt no jealousy now. If Black hadn’t been comforting her, I’d have done it myself.
“Jane, I’m so sorry.” Words were inadequate, but they were all I had. “What can I do? Anything, just name it.”
“Only look for my family. Nothing else. My parents and my little brother. He’s two years younger than me.”
“Of course. When we get back, you can tell us everything you remember about your family. Our firm has a branch in Japan, and we’ll get them onto the search.”
Her voice faded, so quiet I had to lean forward to hear it. “My name isn’t really Jane. When they took me, they asked me what I was called, but I didn’t tell them. They stole everything else from me. My name was the only thing I could keep.” She looked up at me from under long, black eyelashes. “That probably sounds crazy.”
“No, not at all.”
“At school, I loved English classes, and I read every American detective story I could get my hands on. So when they wanted to know my name, I said it was Jane Doe.”
Jane Doe. The girl nobody knew. At least until Carlos came along and found her the way Black had found me.
“So what’s your real name?” I asked.
“Akari,” she whispered. “Akari Takeda. I haven’t spoken it since I left Tokyo.”
And when she did, it rang a bell. Why did it sound familiar? I thought back to my last trip to Japan, when I flew over to interview potential new recruits. I’d found two good people and enjoyed one raucous night at a karaoke bar before I’d come home. But that wasn’t what stirred my memory.
In my mind, I went through my days there. The trip from Narita airport to my apartment, a sleepless night, then onto the Metro at Azabu-Juban. I exited at Shinjuku, close to our office in the business district.
I paused. Backtracked. That was it! Each Saturday, at the entrance to Shinjuku station, an old man stood wearing a sandwich board. Every weekend I’d been there, since my first trip to the country almost a decade ago, he’d been outside, come rain, come shine. And every time I saw him, the light in his eyes had grown a little dimmer, his posture, once proud, stooped a bit more.
It wasn’t until five years ago, when I started to learn Japanese rather than relying on an interpreter, that I’d finally found out what the words on the board said.
Have you seen my daughter?
Akari Takeda disappeared on her way home from school, ten years ago.
A faded picture of a young girl in her school uniform smiled out at the passing commuters.
I will never stop looking for her.
If you have any information, please contact...
Dagnabit! I couldn’t remember the number.
One day a couple of years ago, I’d stopped to talk to him and offered him money, but he’d politely declined. “I only want people’s help to find my Akari, nothing more.”
I’d watched the number of years on his sign creep up from ten to fifteen, and still he stood there. Strong, determined, much like his daughter. Could I finally stop the clock?
“Excuse me a second.” I needed to make a call.
Thankfully, the plane was equipped with all sorts of electronic goodies, so I popped out to the main cabin and gathered up a laptop, camera, and phone, earning myself some curious looks from those still awake.
“Later.” I held up a hand and went back to the bedroom.
“Jane… Akari, can you smile for the camera?”
“What do you need a picture for?”
“I’ll tell you in a minute; I promise.”
I snapped a photo then fired off an email to the Tokyo office. The message was simple: Find me the phone number of the old man from Shinjuku station.
I looked at my watch. Japan was fourteen hours ahead of Colombia and thirteen ahead of Richmond, and we were somewhere between the two. It would already be the next morning in Tokyo.
And my Japanese team was good. By the time I’d made myself a cup of coffee, the satellite phone had pinged with the information I needed.
I didn’t want to get Akari’s hopes up, but neither did I fancy having this conversation in the main cabin. Partly because it was likely to get emotional, and partly because I didn’t want anyone to hear how bad my Japanese still was. Instead, I wedged myself into the tiny bathroom at the back of the plane and sat on the closed toilet. My coffee was still too hot to drink, so I balanced the cup in the basin and dialled.
On the other side of the world, the phone rang once, twice.
A man answered, his tone clipped yet polite. “ Kon’nichiwa .”
“Hi,” I answered in Japanese then took a deep breath. “Are you the person who stands at the station looking for Akari Takeda?”
A pause. “No, that is my father.”
“Can I speak to him?”
“If it is about my sister, I would rather you speak to me. My father is not well, and every time he receives false hope, only to have it dashed, it takes another fragment of his soul.”
“Sure, I can talk to you. What’s your name?”
“Hiro.”
“Well, Hiro, I’m Emmy. I think I might have found Akari.”
I left out most of the detail, but explained to Hiro that we’d come across our extra passenger in Colombia. Then I emailed him her photo, and I knew the instant he saw it because his voice cracked.
“It’s her. I’m sure of it. Is this a joke? Please, tell me the truth.”
“No joke. Do you want to speak to her?”
It took a few seconds before he replied in the affirmative, his voice wobbly.
I unfolded myself from my cramped quarters and walked back through to the bedroom, not forgetting the coffee. Akari was still curled up on Black’s lap, sobbing softly as he stroked her hair.
I held the phone out. “Hiro wants to speak to you.”
Her expression changed from shock to amazement to happiness. She reached out and took the phone, gripping it as if she was afraid it might vanish.
“ Moshi moshi ?” Hello? Her smile grew so wide I feared for her jawbone.
We’d both had reunions today. I only wished I could feel the same joy I saw in Akari as she greeted her brother. My own feelings were bittersweet, my elation at having Black back tinged with worry that our relationship was irreparable.
No, I didn’t want to think about it.
Nursing my fractured heart, I left Akari and my husband to themselves and retreated to the safety of the crowd, where I sat to the side and typed out a message to Hiro so I wouldn’t interrupt his conversation with his sister.
Emmy: We’re on our way to Richmond, Virginia. I can make arrangements for you to travel over to meet us, and your parents too. Let me know?
Then I called Sloane to give her a heads-up. She squealed with delight when I told her we were all on our way home, mostly in one piece. She’d already heard about Dan’s injury, but I reassured her it wasn’t too bad. I also asked her to keep Black’s return to herself. Reintroducing him would take a bit of thought.
As we sped over the ocean, fluffy clouds drifted past below. Evan snored, and I threw a packet of peanuts at him, then several bread rolls until he turned over and shut up. I settled back into my seat and stared out the window at nothing. Time and space flew past, ten minutes, then twenty. The world looked so tranquil from up there, a far cry from the storm brewing in my head.
When I could take it no more, I crept back to look in on Black. He’d taken off his borrowed shoes and fallen asleep with his feet hanging off the edge of the bed. His face twitched as he dreamed, and I hoped he was thinking of the good things in life. Akari was still awake, smiling to herself. I motioned to her and she quietly shuffled off his lap, still clutching the phone, then curled up beside him.
With one last backwards glance, I left them to their peace and went to land the plane.