he remembered her first ride on the national railroad, on a winter day four years ago. It was evening and the car was packed. For Anna, who wasn't used to the crowds, it was like being absorbed by a foreign body. Under a relentless assault from elbows and bags, she was driven far into the car. Somehow she managed to find a strap to grab and stood staring out the window at the burnt orange of the winter sunset. As the light flared, the buildings in the foreground seemed to recede into shadow, vanishing from sight as the train passed. She twisted around from time to time, worried that she would miss her stop or that she wouldn't be able to get to the door because of the crush of people.

Suddenly, she realised that voices speaking her own language were rising out of the crowd. Someone nearby was speaking in the familiar tones of Shanghai. Feeling comforted, she scanned the faces around her to see who it was; but then, listening more closely, she realised it was Japanese she'd been hearing, with its various similar sounds. And she felt a stab of real loneliness, the loneliness of the traveller adrift in a foreign country. Though the faces and voices resembled her own, she was alone in a world where no one knew her. When she looked out the window again, the sun had set and she found herself staring at her own reflection in the dark glass: she saw a forlorn young woman in a dowdy coat looking back at her, and the sight filled her with a sense of utter isolation. She had been nineteen at the time. To be sure, this wasn't the first time she'd felt overwhelmed by the economic prosperity of Japan or the frenetic activity of the city, but her loneliness at that moment was like nothing she'd ever felt before.

If she had come to Japan to learn, as her student visa suggested, she might have been able to put up with these feelings. But Anna had come with the sole aim of making money, and the only tools she'd brought with her were her youth and her beauty. She'd come with great expectations, attracted by the ease of it all, spurred on by the broker's promises of the riches to be earned in Japan; and in the end, it had been this love of ease that had undermined a bright, sensible girl like her. Anna had been a good student at school, and had even thought of going on to university. But now here she was, making easy money just for spending time with Japanese men. She knew there was something sleazy about the whole business, but she couldn't help herself.

Her father was a taxi driver, and her mother sold vegetables at the market. Every evening, they came home to tell each other about the day's successes, about the money they'd made by cunning and grit. That was the way of the Shanghai wage earner. But Anna felt that she could never report her own successes to her serious, hard-working parents. And here in Tokyo, though she took a secret pride in her Shanghai heritage and her own looks, she usually felt intimidated by the self-confidence of the rich young Japanese women. Self-confidence was something she lacked. It all seemed so unfair. And it was when she felt most frustrated with her situation, most insecure and lonely, that she saw herself as she did that time before - as a frightened country girl lost in the big city.

During her first months in Japan, she had gone dutifully to the language school recommended by the broker who arranged for her visa, working nights in a club in Yotsuya to support herself. She studied hard and, thanks to her good ear, she was soon able to get the drift of most conversations and communicate in broken Japanese. She also learned how to dress like the fashionable young women she saw in the department stores. Nevertheless, she could never quite shake the feeling she'd experienced that day on the train; no matter how hard she tried to ignore it, it always seemed to be lurking nearby, like a stray cat.

Still, what mattered was the money. The quicker she earned it, the sooner she could go back to Shanghai, where she planned to get rich running a fashion boutique. Days were spent at the language school, nights at the club. But in spite of all her efforts, she never managed to save much. Prices were high and it cost her more to live in Japan than she'd expected. It seemed as though she'd been here forever, but she still had less than a quarter of the amount needed to open her shop; at this rate she'd never get home. Anna felt trapped, and the feeling filled her days with a vague anxiety, like a hairline crack that threatens to break up a delicate teacup. She lived with the fear that someday she would break, too. And then she met Satake.

***

He was a fairly regular customer at the bar where she worked, a man who was conspicuously generous with his tips despite the fact that he never drank. She noticed that the manager of the club seemed a bit wary of him. Still, they had assigned him one of the most popular girls, and Anna had concluded that he was out of her league. The next time he stopped in, however, he had asked for her to join him at his table.

'I'm Anna. Pleased to meet you.'

Satake seemed different from the other customers, who tended to be either self-conscious and shy or too full of themselves. He closed his eyes, as if enjoying the sound of Anna's voice, then opened them and studied the movement of her lips as she talked, like one of the teachers at her Japanese school. It made her nervous, as if she'd just been called on in class.

'Scotch and water?' she asked. As she mixed a very weak drink for him, she glanced up at his face. He was in his late thirties, swarthy, with close-cropped hair. Small, up-turned eyes and full lips. Though he wasn't exactly handsome, there was a composure in his face that made it appealing. But his clothes were ridiculously loud. A slick black designer suit that ill-suited his sturdy frame, topped off with a gaudy tie. A gold Rolex and a gold Cartier lighter. The effect was almost comic, and strikingly at odds with the mournful look in his eyes.

His eyes. His eyes were like well-water. Anna remembered a photo she'd seen in a magazine somewhere of a dark pool hidden away in a high mountain valley. The water was steel grey, still and cold, and Anna had imagined that its depths sheltered strange creatures in the tangles of water grass. No swimmer would go near a pool like that, nor any boat. At night, the black crater would suck up the starlight, while its strange inhabitants watched unnoticed from the depths. Maybe the man beside her had chosen his shiny costume to keep people from looking into his own dark pool.

Anna examined his hands. He wore no jewellery, but his skin was smooth as if he'd never done any manual labour. For a man's hands, they were beautifully shaped. She couldn't imagine what he did to earn his living. Since he didn't seem to fit into any of the usual categories, she wondered if he could be one of those 'yakuza' she'd heard of. The thought gave her a half-curious, halfcreepy feeling.

'Anna?' he said. He put a cigarette in his mouth and studied her face in silence for what seemed ages. There wasn't so much as a ripple on the surface of the pool. No matter how long he looked at her, there was no trace of either approval or disappointment in his eyes. His voice was soft and kind, however, and Anna thought she'd like to hear it again some time.

Realising he had a cigarette in his mouth, she remembered what she'd been taught and picked up a lighter, but she nearly dropped it again in her rush to play the part of the good bar girl. Her clumsiness seemed to make him relax.

'No need to be nervous,' he said.

'Sorry.'

'I'd guess you're around twenty?'

'Yes,' Anna nodded. She had turned twenty the month before.

'Did you pick out this outfit?' he asked, looking at her clothes.

'No,' she said. She was wearing a cheap, bright red dress that she'd been given by another girl from the bar who shared the same apartment. 'Someone gave it to me.'

'I thought so,' said Satake. 'It doesn't suit you.'

Then buy me one that does! - that was the sort of thing she would learn to say only later. That night she had just smiled vaguely to cover her embarrassment. Nor could she have imagined that Satake was amusing himself by picturing her as a paper doll he could deck out in an array of pretty paper dresses.

'I'm never quite sure what to wear,' she said.

'You'd look good in just about anything,' he said. She was used to crude, childish customers who said the first thing that came into their heads, but she could tell even then that he wasn't like them. He was quiet for a moment while he finished his cigarette.

'You were checking me over before,' he said eventually. 'What do you think I do?'

'Are you in business?'

'No,' he said, shaking his head with mock seriousness.

'Then are you a yakuza?' For the first time since she'd sat down, Satake laughed. Anna caught a glimpse of strong white teeth.

'Not exactly,' he said. 'Though you're not far off. I'm a pimp.'

'Pimp?' said Anna. 'What does that mean, "pimp"?' Satake produced an expensive pen from his breast pocket and wrote the characters on his napkin. Anna frowned as she read them.

'I sell women,' he said.

'To who?'

'To men who want to buy them.'

In other words, a scout for prostitutes. She was reduced to silence, stunned that he could admit this so openly.

'Do you like men, Anna?' he asked, his eyes on her fingers as she held the napkin. She looked puzzled.

'I like nice men,' she said.

'What kind of nice men?'

'Men like Tony Leung. He's an actor from Hong Kong.'

'If a man like that wanted you, would you mind being sold to him?'

'I suppose not,' she said, as if turning the problem over in her mind. 'But why would a man like Tony Leung want me? I'm not even that pretty.'

'You're wrong,' he contradicted her. 'You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen.'

'Liar,' Anna laughed, unable to believe what she was hearing. She wasn't even among the top ten girls in a little club like this one.

'I never lie,' he said.

'But... ' she murmured.

'You just lack confidence,' he said. 'If you come to work for me, I'll have you believing that you're as beautiful as you really are.'

'But I don't want to be a prostitute,' she said, pouting slightly.

'That was just a joke. I run a club, just like this one.'

But if it was just another club, Anna thought, what was the point? A look of disappointment crossed her face at the thought of more years working in Japan. As Satake watched her, his elegant fingers flicked at the drops of condensation that had formed on his glass, flicking them on to his coaster where they mottled the white paper. Anna had the odd feeling that she'd made the drink just so that he could practice this little stunt.

'Don't you like this kind of work?' he asked at last.

'No, it's not that,' she said, glancing nervously at the woman who ran the club. Satake noticed the look.

'I know it's hard to make this sort of decision,' he said. 'But you came here to make money, didn't you? Then why not really make some? You're wasting a wonderful gift.'

'Gift?'

'A beautiful person has a gift, just like a writer or a painter. It's not something that's given to everybody; it's a special favour. But writers and painters have to work to develop their gifts, and so do you. That's your duty. In a sense, you're a kind of artist yourself, at least that's the way I look at it. But at the moment, you're neglecting your duty.' As she listened to his soft voice, Anna felt almost giddy. But when she looked up, she realised that he was probably just trying to lure her away to his club. The management at her current place had warned her about men like this.

Satake sighed, guessing what was going through her mind. 'You're wasting yourself here,' he said, smiling at her.

'But I don't have any gift,' she said.

'You do. And if you start using it, things will work out just the way you planned them.'

'But... '

'And when they do, you'll see,' he said.

'See what?'

'Your fate,' he said.

'Why?' she murmured.

'Because fate is what happens to you in spite of all your plans.' Satake said this quite seriously and then slipped a neatly folded ¥10,000 bill into her hand. She glanced away as she took the bill, feeling that she'd caught a glimpse of something deep down in the pool of his eyes; something she shouldn't have seen.

'Thank you,' she said.

'I'll see you again,' he said; then, as if he had abruptly lost interest in her, he glanced over at the manager and signalled her to get him another girl. Having become suddenly extraneous, Anna moved on to another table. She felt disappointed, in part at her own lukewarm response which she blamed for Satake's loss of interest. She'd half believed him when he said that she'd be prettier if she went to work for him. And if what he said was true, she might even see what 'fate' held in store for her. Had she missed a chance to make something of herself? She regretted her own timidity.

When she got back to her apartment, she took out the bill he'd given her. Unfolding it, she found the name 'Mika' and a telephone number written inside.

***

After she moved to his club, Satake had taught her a great many things about older Japanese men. That it was often better to make them think you didn't speak much Japanese. That they preferred quiet, conservative girls with nice manners. It was best to let them think you were still in school and that you worked as a hostess just for pocket money. Emphasise the fact that you're a student most men have a thing about schoolgirls. Even if they know it's a lie, they like to feel they're financially superior, and it makes them more likely to tip well. And above all, try to give the impression that you come from a good family in Shanghai. This they find reassuring. Satake also gave her explicit instructions about the sort of clothes and make-up that would appeal to them. In Shanghai, men might appreciate a woman who insisted on equal rights, but not here.

When Anna still had doubts about the Japanese way of doing things, Satake told her to think of the whole thing as an act, a role she played to succeed in her chosen profession. After that, she learned quickly. She didn't have to become that sort of woman; she just had to perform, as part of her job. Anything for the job. This was something her parents would have understood. And in time she discovered that she did have a gift, exactly as Satake had said. The more she played the part, the more attractive she became. His discriminating eye had been right.

Before long, she'd become the top hostess at Mika; and as her popularity grew, she became more confident. With self-confidence came the determination to make a success of herself in her new 'career'. At last she'd found a way of keeping loneliness, her old stray cat, firmly at bay.

She took to calling Satake 'honey', and in return he made no secret of the fact that she was his special pet. When she realised that he hadn't tried to fix her up with a well-heeled customer the way he was always doing for the other girls, she decided that it was proof that he was in love with her. But no sooner had she come to this conclusion than he called to say he'd found someone.

'He's just the right type,' he told her over the phone. 'What type?'

'He's nice and he's rich.' Of course, the man in question wasn't

Tony Leung. He wasn't good-looking and he wasn't particularly young, just very wealthy. Practically every time she saw him, he would hand her a million yen. The maths were simple: if she met him ten times, she'd have ten million - more than enough to live on for a whole year. Soon she'd be rich herself. By the time she actually passed the goal she'd set when she came to Japan, she had forgotten all about Tony Leung.

But the man who had supplanted the handsome actor in her affections wasn't her wealthy patron, it was Satake himself. She found herself intrigued by what she'd glimpsed in his eyes when they first met. He'd said fate was something that happened in spite of our best plans. Then what had happened in his case? She had a feeling - one that aroused a nervous excitement in her that she of all people might be able to find out; after all, she was his 'number one'. She would have liked to see for herself what sort of creatures lived down there at the bottom of that pool, and catch them with her own bare hands.

In the end, though, she realised that the more she tried to learn about him, the less he allowed her to see. He seemed to guard every aspect of his life with great care. He never let anyone come to his apartment, for example. Once, Chin, the floor manager at Mika, had told her that he'd spotted a man who looked like Satake in front of a run-down old apartment building in West Shinjuku; but instead of the flashy designer clothes the boss favoured, the man was shabbily dressed. He'd come out to dump some garbage, dressed in ragged pants and a sweater that was worn through at the elbows. He could have been any old tired drudge, but as Chin watched, the guy began cleaning up around the garbage can with a surly look on his face, and from the way he moved, he realised that it had to be Satake. The whole episode had come as quite a shock, he told Anna - had even scared him a bit.

'Here at the club, he's so cool. He may not say much, but you know you can depend on him. If that was the real Satake I saw, then it's almost like he's schizy. It gives me the creeps to think that everything he does here is just an act. But why should he have to put on an act for us, anyway? What's he hiding? You get the feeling he doesn't trust us. But how can you live if you don't trust anyone? Maybe it means that you really don't trust yourself?'

Satake was a mystery, a puzzle waiting to be solved. When the rest of the staff at Mika heard the story, the boss's secret life became a topic of endless discussion. Everyone seemed to have his own opinion about what sort of man he was, but no one felt you could trust him much. Anna, though, couldn't bring herself to agree with Chin that it was Satake who didn't trust anybody. Still, she found herself feeling jealous of his secrets, and even ended up thinking that there must be another woman involved. Perhaps it was only with her that he could really be himself

One day, she finally got up the nerve to ask him straight out, 'Honey, do you live with someone?' Satake hesitated a second, staring at her in surprise, which she took as proof that she'd guessed right. 'Who is it?' she pressed.

'No one,' he said with a laugh. But the light in his eyes had seemed to die at that moment, like the time at the end of the night when they turned off the lights at the club. 'I've never lived with a woman.'

'Then don't you like women?' she said. It was reassuring that there had never been talk of a woman in Satake's life, but now she was suddenly afraid he might be gay.

'Sure I do,' he said, 'especially beautiful ones like you. They're like the best of all presents.' As he said this, he took her hand and began stroking her long, slender fingers, but the way he did it was as if he were getting the feel of some delicate instrument. Besides which, when he'd said that he liked women, she had a feeling he meant nothing more than an aesthetic appreciation.

'Presents from who?' she asked.

'From the gods, to men everywhere,' he said.

'Do girls get presents, too?' she asked, meaning getting a man like him for herself. But he seemed not to understand.

'I suppose so. Someone like Tony Leung? How'd you like that?'

'Not much,' she said, giving him a reproachful look. Anna wanted to touch a man's heart, not just his body. And there was just one heart she wanted, just one that made her own beat faster. Unfortunately, the 'beautiful women' Satake said he liked were nothing more than valuable objects, not living, breathing people with feelings of their own. She doubted he had any use for a woman's heart. And if that were the case, then one 'beautiful woman' was as good as the next, which made it all the more unfair that there was only one man in the whole world she cared about. 'So if a woman is good-looking, that's enough for you?' she asked.

'That's enough for any man,' he said. Anna stopped the questions then, having sensed that, deep inside the man she loved, there was something badly damaged. Perhaps a woman had hurt him in the past. The thought filled her with sympathy for him; it also gave her the comfort of daydreaming about how she would heal his broken heart.

***

That day at the pool, however, Anna had been shaken awake from her daydream. At first she'd been delighted that he'd given in and come swimming with her, but her heart sank at his reaction when that boy made a play for her. Satake had practically winked his encouragement, like an understanding uncle, which could only mean that he had no idea she was in love with him. It was this realisation that made her do something she'd never done before: invite a man home to her apartment - her own modest form of rebellion. But even then Satake had given no indication that he had any feelings for her.

'I don't mind if you fool around,' he'd said, 'as long as it doesn't get in the way of work or go on too long.' She would never forget how he'd sounded as he told her this - as though she were a product to be sold in his store, a toy to attract the men who came shopping. If he'd been especially nice to her, it was only because she did exactly as she was told, played the role of money-making doll to perfection.

She found it hard to sleep that night, conscious as she was that the crack in her self-confidence which she thought had been repaired was opening up again. But the next morning brought an even greater shock.

Chin had called early. 'Anna, Satake-san has been picked up on a gambling charge. Since you were out last night, I thought you'd want to know.'

'What do you mean, "picked up"?' she said.

'Arrested, by the police,' he said. 'They got Kunimatsu and the other people at Playground, too. We're not going to open today. If the police come around asking questions, just say you don't know anything.' Then he hung up.

Before she got the call, Anna had decided that she was going to confront Satake and force him to tell her whether she meant anything to him. She'd made up her mind that if the answer was not the one she wanted to hear, she would quit. Now she suddenly had nothing to do, so she went straight to the city pool and got badly sunburnt there.

That night, as she sat staring at her blistering skin, she remembered their trip to the pool the day before. Perhaps it was unfair to think that he just saw her as merchandise. Wasn't it possible that he was holding back because of the difference in their ages? Why would he bother to do so much for her, if she hadn't mattered much to him? No, it was wrong of her to doubt him, with all the evidence she had. And gradually the good, kind, docile Anna surfaced once again, and she found herself loving him even more than before.

The next day, the employees who had been arrested during the raid came back. They all assumed that Satake would be released as well, but he was the only one who remained in custody. The clubs stayed closed for a week. She heard that Reika had gone to see the boss in prison and he'd told her to announce an early summer holiday.

Anna spent her days at the pool. Baked in the sun, her skin turned the colour of ripe wheat, and she looked more beautiful than ever. When she passed men on the street, they turned to stare after her, and at the pool they seemed to cluster around her like flies. She was sure Satake would have enjoyed this change in her, and it seemed a shame he was missing it.

One evening, Reika came by her apartment. 'I've got something important to tell you,' she said.

'What about?'

'About Satake-san. It looks as though this might drag on a while.' Reika always spoke to Anna in Mandarin; since she was from Taiwan, she couldn't speak the Shanghai dialect. 'Why?'

'It seems there's more to it than just a gambling charge. I've asked around a bit, and I hear it has something to do with that murder case, the dismemberment.'

'What's "dismemberment"?' Anna asked, pushing away the dog that was barking at her feet. Reika lit a cigarette and gave her a searching look.

'You don't know?' she said. 'Three weeks ago, they found a body that had been cut up in pieces. The victim turned out to be that guy named Yamamoto who used to come to the club.' Anna gave a start.

'You mean the one who was always after me?'

'Seems hard to believe, doesn't it?'

He had asked for her whenever he showed up there, and he never took his eyes off her once she sat down at his table. He'd hold her hand, and when he got a little drunk, he'd try to push her down on the couch. But it wasn't his persistence that bothered her as much as the lonely look she'd seen in his eyes. If men wanted to play, she was willing enough, but a lonely man held no attraction for her at all. So when he'd disappeared, she'd been delighted and then promptly forgotten all about him.

'The police are bound to show up here soon. You might be better off moving,' Reika said, looking around at her expensive apartment.

'Why would they come here?'

'They think Satake killed him because he wouldn't leave you alone. And then asked one of the Chinese gangs to get rid of the body.'

'He would never do something like that,' Anna said. 'Still, he was seen beating him up outside Playground.'

'I know, but that's all he did.'

'Maybe,' Reika said, dropping her voice, 'but did you know that he once killed a woman?' Anna felt her throat contract, and her mouth was suddenly too dry to swallow. 'And do you know how he killed her? I was shocked when I found out, and I'm sure the girls at the club would quit if they knew.'

'Why? What did he do?' Anna asked, remembering the strange light that seemed to shine from somewhere deep in Satake's eyes.

'They say he used to work as an aide to a big yakuza boss who ran the prostitution and drug rackets around here. Satake-san sometimes collected debts for the gang, or hunted down girls who tried to get out of the business. Well, one day they found out that a woman was stealing their girls and setting them up at another club. Satake caught her and locked her up in his room. Then, they say he tortured her to death.'

'What do you mean, "tortured her"?' Anna was unable to control the tremour in her voice. She was suddenly reminded of a trip her family had made to Nanjing when she was a child and the horrible mannequins she'd seen at the War Museum. Was this what lay at the bottom of Satake's pool? His horrible past?

'It was really bad - brutal,' Reika said, arching her sharply drawn eyebrows. 'He stripped her and beat her; then he raped her. Then, it seems he kept stabbing her to keep her from losing consciousness. And when she was covered with blood, he raped her again. They say her teeth were broken and her body was covered with bruises. Even the other yakuza were shocked, and wanted nothing to do with him after that.'

Anna let out a long, mournful wail. At some point, while she was still crying, Reika went home, leaving her alone with the toy poodle which sat watching her, wagging its tail.

'Jewel,' she sobbed. The dog barked happily, thinking the entreaty was an invitation to play. She remembered when she'd bought it. She'd wanted to indulge herself with something special, for her and no one else, so she'd gone to a pet shop and picked out the prettiest dog she could find. Maybe it was the same with men: they wanted women the same way she'd wanted the poodle, and she meant no more to Satake than the dog did to her.

She knew she could never go down into that dark pool now but it still made her want to cry her eyes out.