Search Continues for Missing Divers in Kisejima

27 SEPTEMBER 1994

Okinawa, Japan. A group of four tourists have gone missing during a diving expedition off Kisejima with a local couple who acted as their guides. The tourists consisted of three Japanese and one Singaporean.

The group left early in the morning and did not return. The couple’s son reported his parents’ disappearance to the police that evening. Due to bad weather, the search and rescue mission was delayed.

The SAR team recovered the boat that had been used by the divers the following day. Personal belongings and diving equipment were found on board, but there was no sign of the divers or their guides. The police investigation is ongoing.

17 In That Tiny Red Phone Booth

CHAPTER 17

IN THAT TINY RED PHONE BOOTH

Shoji packed up his briefcase and loosened his tie. ‘I’m leaving,’ he told Yoshioka, who was concentrating on a page proof.

‘Thank you for your hard work,’ his senior said. He paused, remembering something. ‘Ah, I wanted to talk to you about the politician’s wife you asked me to track down.’

Shoji stopped. ‘Did you find anything?’

‘Not yet, but I’ve made some calls,’ Yoshioka said. ‘I just want you to know that it might take a while. I’m sorry.’

Shoji lowered his head. ‘I should be the one to apologise for troubling you.’

‘Nah, it’s no trouble at all.’ Yoshioka glanced at the clock. ‘You’re leaving early.’

‘Uh-huh,’ Shoji mumbled awkwardly.

‘Usually, you’re the last to leave.’ Yoshioka grinned. ‘Are you seeing someone? Don’t tell me it’s the cat you picked up.’

‘You have a good imagination.’

Shoji put on his coat and made his escape before Yoshioka could ask any more questions. He took the staircase to the ground floor and left the building. Strolling to the station, he breathed in the balmy summer night.

Nowadays, Shoji headed home early because Liyun prepared dinner. At her insistence, he’d started having a proper breakfast, even though he used to begin his day with just a cup of coffee. She’d even offered to pack him a boxed lunch to bring to work, but he had turned her down. His colleagues would ask who had made his bento, and it wouldn’t be easy to explain that he was living with a woman, regardless of their platonic friendship.

While waiting for the traffic light’s little man to change colour, Shoji stared at a stationary car on the other side of the road. The car — a red Mazda Miata — had stopped there despite the no-parking sign. A couple was seated inside. A long-haired woman sat in the driver’s seat, her gloved fingers clutching the steering wheel. She brushed her hair behind her ear, revealing a familiar face.

‘Yoko!’ he shouted.