The Key to Midnight

her again, please.'
        The bartender was clearly embarrassed for him. 'She say don't know anyone name Alex Hunter.'
        'But she does.'
        The bartender said nothing.
        'We had lunch together,' Alex said.
        The man shrugged.
        'Just this afternoon.'
        A pained smile. And: 'So sorry.'
        A customer asked for service at the far end of the bar, and the bartender hurried away with obvious relief.
        Alex stared at his reflection in the bluish bar mirror. He sipped the Old Suntory.
        Softly he said, 'What the hell's going on here?'

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    15
        
        When Alex asked for Mariko Inamura, the bartender was at first no more inclined to cooperate than when he'd been asked to put in a call to Joanna. At last, however, he relented and summoned Mariko on the house phone.
        A few minutes later she entered the lounge through a door marked PRIVATE. She was Joanna's age and quite lovely. Her thick black hair was held up with ivory pins.
        Alex stood and bowed to her.
        After she returned the bow, they introduced themselves, and she sat on the stool next to his.
        As he sat again, he said, 'Mariko-san, I've heard many good things about you.'
        'Likewise, Mr. Hunter.' Her English was flawless. She didn't have the slightest difficulty pronouncing the L sound, which had no equivalent in her native tongue.
        'How's Joanna?'
        'She has a sore throat.'
        He sipped his whiskey. 'Excuse me if I act like a stereotypical American. I don't mean to be blunt and boorish, but I wonder if that is really the truth - that story about a sore throat.'
        Mariko was silent. She looked away from him, down at her hands.
        Alex said, 'Joanna told the bartender she didn't know anyone named Alex Hunter.'
        Mariko sighed.
        'What's wrong here, Mariko-san?'
        'She spoke so well of you. She was like a young girl. 1 began to hope it would be different this time.'
        'What's wrong with her?'
        Mariko continued to stare at the polished bartop in front of her and said nothing. The Japanese had a highly developed sense of propriety, a complex system of social graces, and a very rigid set of standards concerning the conduct of personal relationships. She was reluctant to talk about her friend, for in doing so, she would not be conducting herself according to those standards.
        'I already know about the bad dream she has every night,' Alex prodded gently.
        Mariko was clearly surprised. 'Joanna's never told anyone about that - except me.'
        'And now me.'
        She glanced at Alex, and he saw a greater warmth in her coal-colored eyes than he'd seen a minute ago. Nevertheless, to stall, she signaled the bartender and ordered Old Suntory over ice.
        Alex sensed that Mariko was basically conservative and old-fashioned. She couldn't easily overcome the traditional Japanese respect for other people's privacy.
        When her drink came, she sipped it slowly, rattled the ice in the glass, and at last said, 'If Joanna's told you about her nightmare, then she's probably told you as much about herself as she ever tells anyone.'
        'She's secretive?'
        'Not that, exactly.'
        'Modest?'
        'That's part of it. But only part. It's also as if… as if she's afraid to talk about herself too much.'
        He watched Mariko closely. 'Afraid? What do you mean?'
        'I can't explain it…'
        He waited, aware that she had capitulated. She needed a moment to decide where to begin.
        After another sip of Old Suntory, she said, 'What Joanna did to you tonight… pretending not to know you… this isn't the first time she's behaved that way.'
        'It doesn't seem to be her style.'
        'Every time she does it, I'm shocked. It's out of character. She's really the sweetest, kindest person. Yet, whenever she begins to feel close to a man, when she begins perhaps to fall in love with him - or he with her - she kills the romance. And she's never nice about it. A different woman. Almost… mean. Cold.'
        'But I don't see how that applies to me. We've only had one date, an innocent lunch together.'
        Mariko nodded solemnly. 'But she's fallen for you. Fast.'
        'No. You're wrong about that.'
        'Just before you came on the scene, she was deeply depressed.'
        'She didn't seem that way to me.'
        'That's what