The Key to Midnight

attraction for two years. If I'd wanted to stay, I'd still be there. But I realized I'd do better with my own club.'
        'Ongaku, Ongaku is changed, not like you describe it,' Alex said. 'It must've lost a lot when you left. It doesn't jump these days. It doesn't even twitch.'
        Joanna laughed and tossed her head to get a long wave of hair out of her face. With that gesture, she looked like a schoolgirl, fresh, innocent - and more than ever like Lisa Chelgrin. Indeed, for a moment, she was not merely a Chelgrin look-alike: She was a dead ringer for the missing woman.
        'I came to Kyoto for a vacation in July, more than six years ago,' she said. 'It was during the annual Gion Matsuri.'
        'Matsuri… a festival.'
        'It's Kyoto's most elaborate celebration. Parties, exhibits, art shows. The beautiful old houses on Muromachi were open to the public with displays of family treasures and heirlooms, and there was a parade of the most enormous ornate floats you ever saw. Absolutely enchanting. I stayed an extra week and fell in love with Kyoto even when it wasn't in the midst of a festival. Used a lot of my savings to buy the building that's now the Moonglow. The rest is history. I warned you it was dull compared to your life. Not a single murder mystery or Rolls-Royce in the entire tale.'
        'I didn't yawn once.'
        'I try to make the Moonglow a little like the Cafe Ameri-cain, in Casablanca, but the dangerous, romantic stuff that happened to Bogart doesn't happen to me and never will. I'm a lightning rod for the ordinary forces in life. The last major crisis I can recall was when the dishwasher broke down for two days.'
        Alex wasn't certain that everything Joanna had told him was true, but he was favorably impressed. Her capsule biography was generally convincing, as much for the manner in which it was delivered as for its detail. Although she'd been reluctant to talk about herself, there had been no hesitation in her voice once she'd begun, not the slightest hint of a liar's discomfort. Her history as a nightclub singer in Yokohama and Tokyo was undoubtedly true. If she'd needed to invent a story to cover those years, she wouldn't have created one that was so easy to investigate and disprove. The part about England and the parents who'd been killed while on holiday in Brighton… well, he wasn't sure what to make of that. As a device for totally sealing off her life prior to Japan, it was effective but far too pat. Furthermore, at a few points, her biography intersected with that of Lisa Chelgrin, which seemed to be piling coincidence on coincidence.
        Joanna turned on her cushion to face him directly. Her knee pressed against his leg, sending a pleasant shiver through him. 'Do you have any plans for the afternoon?' she asked. 'If you'd like to do some sightseeing, I'll be your guide for a few hours.'
        'Thanks for the offer, but you must have business to attend to.'
        'Mariko can handle things at the club until it opens. I don't have to put in an appearance until at least six o'clock.'
        'Mariko?'
        'Mariko Inamura. My assistant manager. The best thing that's happened to me since I came to Japan. She's smart, trustworthy, and works like a demon.'
        Alex repeated the name to himself until he was sure that he would remember it. If he had a chance to talk with Mariko, she might inadvertently reveal more about her boss than he could learn from Joanna herself.
        'Well,' he said, 'if you're sure you have the time, I'd like nothing better than a tour.'
        He had expected to make up his mind about her during lunch, but he had reached no conclusions.
        Her uncommonly dark blue eyes seemed to grow darker still. He stared into them, entranced.
        Joanna Rand or Lisa Chelgrin?
        He couldn't decide which.

----

    8
        
        At Joanna's request, the hostess at Mizutani telephoned the Sogo Taxi Company. The cab arrived in less than five minutes, a black car with red lettering.
        Joanna was delighted with the driver. No one could have been better suited than he was for the little tour that she had in mind. He was a wrinkled, white-haired old man with an appealing smile that lacked one tooth. He sensed romance between her and Alex, so he interrupted their conversation only to make certain that they didn't miss special scenery here and there, using his rearview mirror to glance furtively at them,