A Dog in Water Read Online Free PDF

target. My conjecture is that his three convictions are those instances where he failed to get to the money-siphoning stage with his victims.”
    Junko listened with a blank expression.
    “He knows that you’re scared to death, no, scared beyond death that Koichi will find out about what happened. He thinks that’s the most effective tool for him to use in his threats, that it’s a piece of cake to get you to do anything he says.”
    A shadow of despair passed over her face.
    “And if you defy him? Will he tell Koichi what he did? I don’t think so.” I was desperate to give her even a momentary peace of mind. “If he does, you’ll have nothing to fear. He should be fully aware that there’s a good chance he’ll be arrested and end up in prison. Plus, his brother will cut all ties with him and refuse to give him any further assistance. Do you really think he’d be so foolish?”
    “I wonder …” Junko looked as though she was allowing herself to feel the faintest of hopes.
    “If Katsuya either truly loved you or had a deep-seated hatred for you, then your only options would be to report the incident to the police or run away. But that’s not the case. He is a pro, after a fashion. No professional would do anything to risk imprisonment unless he thought he could reap a profit.”
    “Is it really a good idea for me to stand up to him?”
    “You just happened to be the one he targeted this time. He doesn’t care who his victims are, so long as they’re beautiful young women.”
    “I’m not that young.”
    “You don’t deny that you’re beautiful?”
    Junko looked down in embarrassment.
    “Katsuya Yamamoto prefers victims who won’t put up a fight. Thatmeans you need to become more trouble than you’re worth, a hassle.” I let a hint of a smile work its way onto my face. “Do you understand?”
    Junko gave a small nod. She finally seemed to trust my words. But I wasn’t so sure that I trusted them as much as she did.
    I left her at the office and headed outside. It was starting to get dark.
    I climbed into my car and typed the phone number from Katsuya’s message into the navigation system. The result showed an address in Shinjuku, near the Wel City Tokyo building. I hit the gas.
    The building was small, decrepit and faced a narrow alleyway. All the windows were dark and the shutter was drawn on the first floor entrance, but there was a stairway leading down on the far right. A rusted metal sign with “Bar Smokey” spelled in punched-out letters hung next to the stairs. I figured Katsuya had given a landline phone number in his message because cell reception would be poor in an underground bar.
    Loud music assaulted my ears as soon as I opened the door. A band was playing 60’s Motown songs on a stage in the back. The space was small, yet they were nearly at capacity despite the early hour. Perhaps this was an event they were hosting.
    I surveyed the audience but didn’t see Katsuya Yamamoto. In fact, apart from the stage lights the place was almost pitch dark, making it difficult to see anyone’s features. I walked over to the bar and called out to the young afro-sporting bartender.
    “Is Katsuya Yamamoto here?” I asked in a pointedly rough manner. Afro cupped a hand next to his ear and asked me to repeat myself. I leaned across the counter and shouted, “Where’s Katsuya Yamamoto?”
    He eyed me suspiciously. “You a cop?”
    “No, just his brother’s go-fer.”
    The bartender didn’t look totally convinced as he thrust his chin towards the stage. I didn’t quite grasp his meaning. I turned around and saw that the man playing drums was Katsuya Yamamoto.
    Wearing a T-shirt and jeans and swinging his drumsticks, he gave off a totally different impression from the night before. He didn’t even feel like the same person.
    The bartender called out to me. I paid him the 2,000-yen cover that earned me a free drink. I ordered a ginger ale, sat on a bar stool at the counter and watched