Chapter 13The phone rang and Hiroshi clawed in the direction of the sound, pulling himself off the sofa where he landed a few hours before. The rough weave of the fabric had imprinted itself on his cheek, making it feel raw. His head felt bloated with unmetabolized whiskey.
“Moshi moshi. Hello?”
“This is Sakaguchi.”
“Sakaguchi?”
“We met on the tracks the other day.”
“The sumo wrestler.”
“Former sumo wrestler.”
“What…?” Hiroshi’s hangover made it hard to hear.
“I hate to ask, but we need your English. Takamatsu said I should call.”
“He’s quick to volunteer my services.”
“There’re two English speakers we need help with. Could you come down?”
“It’ll be an hour.”
“Aren’t you in your office?”
“No, at home. I was out with Takamatsu last night.”
“You must be hungover.”
“Badly. Wher
