Chapter 3

Now therefore, while the youthful hue
Sits on thy skin like morning dew,
And while thy willing soul transpires
At every pore with instant fires,
Now let us sport us while we may,
And now, like amorous birds of prey,
Rather at once our time devour
Than languish in his slow-chapt power.
Let us roll all our strength and all
Our sweetness up into one ball,
And tear our pleasures with rough strife
Thorough the iron gates of life:
Thus, though we cannot make our sun
Stand still, yet we will make him run.

("To his Coy Mistress", Andrew Marvell)

I

Nodame sank into one of the leather arm chairs in the hotel lobby feeling greatly contented. Lunch with Vieira sensei had been al fresco at an Italian restaurant where Nodame readily devoured a large steak pizzaiola, a Caesar salad, garlic bread and a slice of chocolate Bavarian cheesecake, while Vieira sensei looked on faintly amused.

"Didn't you have any breakfast, Nodame?" The conductor had asked.

"Oh yes, definitely. Why?"

"You seem rather hungry." To put it mildly.

"Oh… the walk around town gave me an appetite. But I had to have the Chocolate Bavarian when I saw it."

"Of course you did."

It had been satisfactory excursion, aside from lunch, Nodame was not only able to soak in the atmosphere of the performance venue but also to place herself at the cross-roads of European culture that musicians through the ages had traversed. She would be one of many treading the path that those who came before cleared the way. And yet she too would add her mark to the emblazoned path for those who would come after her. It was a duty that she took seriously. As seriously as doing justice to a delectable steak topped with a sweet and sour Italian dressing.

Out of the corner of her eye, Nodame noticed an elegantly dressed female figure hidden under a pair of sunglasses and a red and blue silk scarf apparently watching her every move. When Nodame turned for a better look at her unknown observer, the woman in the scarf turned her head away as if on cue. Why is she watching me? Is she one of those crazed fans… a stalker?

Nodame was on the alert, deliberating what her next move should be when minutes later, a young, attractive male could be seen running out of a lift towards the sunglasses-scarf lady. He was obviously ecstatic to see her and they were both locked in an embrace for some moment. Nodame scratched her hair and stared searchingly at this mysterious couple … therewas something vaguely familiar about the scarf lady… as if she did know her from somewhere. Isn't he that conductor from Taiwan… the one who has just been appointed music director at the Chicago Phil? Is that his girlfriend or something?

Before she could make out who the woman was, the couple disappeared out of sight into a lift. Ah well… as long as she's not stalking me…

If she been inquisitive enough to follow them and skilled enough to skulk unheard down the corridors of the Ambassador Hotel, she would have happened upon an enlightening conversation… the kind of conversation that was the diet of tabloids.

The young conductor from Taiwan spoke first, like a man in a dream. "You came."

The woman in the scarf, looking younger without her makeshift disguise. "I'm so sorry I was late, Justin. You won't believe how much trouble I had finding transportation out of Paris. Apparently there's a rail strike in Paris and every man, woman and dog was trying to fly out of there. I got onto the earliest flight they could give me. I didn't call because mother was constantly about nagging about this and that. I think she suspects something."

"She always suspects something. But you're here… that's the main thing."

"Well, don't just stand there gaping… let's go and get married."

"Rui… I want you to think about it carefully… You don't have to do this. It's just one of my crazy ideas."

"Are you getting cold feet?" She teased.

"Never. But you… I don't want you to do this because of some mistaken sense of obligation."

"Sshh.." She put her finger to his lip. "I want to do this."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Justin… I'm so sure that I'm willing to incur the wrath of my mother to be here."

"As long as this is what you want…"

"It is… "

II

"This is absurd. That man is the closest thing I have to friend. Why would I want to sleep with his wife?"

Beresford was not the picture of calm that he usually presented to the world. Finding Peter Drake in bathroom barely breathing and then being questioned by the local police in this curt manner was doing little for his nerves. The agitation that he was desperately trying to conceal was creeping into his voice. The entire situation had caught him off guard and he was inwardly, gravely concern about his friend's condition.

The almost bald, mustachioed man sitting across from him answered "It wouldn't be the first time that has happened, Mr Beresford… and we understand that you have something of a reputation with the ladies."

"I don't even like her. She's not my type and I'm not her type either. She's likes them young… if you catch my drift, Inspector."

"I see." The inspector placed a photograph in front of him. "Recognize this?"

The photograph saw Beresford and an attractive blonde in her forties sitting on a park bench. Her hand was conspicuously fondling his knees.

Beresford gave a startled cry. "Where did you get this?"

"We found this in Mr Drake's jacket pocket…"

"That witch… she probably had someone watch us… and when she couldn't get what she wanted, she tried to use Peter to get back at me…" The inspector noticed that Beresford was tapping his fingers on the examination the table nervously.

"Who are you talking about?"

"Susan Drake… who else? She's the one who wanted this meeting... made it sound like it was a matter of life and death. "

"To what end…"

"For one of her toy boys. Her latest. She wanted me to use my influence to get him a place in the Symphonia. I told her where to get off and then she tried her charms on me which didn't work of course."

"I see. What happened after that?"

"Nothing happened. That was the last I'd heard of it until now."

"Did Mr Drake know about these 'toy boys'?"

Beresford nodded his head slowly. "I almost certain he did… although he never talked about it."

"And yet he remained in the relationship…"

"Peter was a fool about her… besotted… She ran through his inheritance faster than his parents had made it. She only married him for his money but he was crazy about her." He hesitated before continuing in a quieter tone of voice. "He started drinking more heavily right about the time the money started to dwindle."

"We also found this… in his jacket pocket… a rejection letter."

The inspector handed Beresford the crumpled note that had been so much on Peter Drake's mind.

"Poor bastard…" was the grim response.

"Did you know about this?"

"No. But I did know that he was looking for a position somewhere."

"Is it possible that his recent misfortunes pushed him over the edge to cause him to take his own life?"

Beresford frowned. "Suicide? Peter… I can't believe that…"

"But you have your suspicions…" The inspector pressed.

"Peter is many things…" Beresford paused to consider. "But drinking himself to death in a hotel room… that's ludicrous. It sounds like the plot of a bad detective novel."

A faint smile appeared on the inspector's face. "You'd be surprised, Mr Beresford… these sorts of things happen every day."

"Well, I'm glad it's your job and not mine to wade through the mire of the human condition."

"I'm sure."

"Can I go now? I have a friend I need to see."

"We may have more questions for you later so don't leave the country yet."

"I don't intend to. Well, at least not today. There's a recital that I'm very much looking forward to attending."

"A recital?"

"A piano recital by a Megumi Noda at the Sala Terrena. The only good thing to come out of this damn trip."

Saying that, he got up and left the room. Inside the safety of the walls of his mind, one thought reverberated throughout. What did you do to yourself, Peter?

Seeing that their witness was safely out of earshot, the inspector turned to his companion, who had been silent during the entire interview.

"So what do you think?"

"He's a lot more affected by it than he lets on."

"I know the type… lots of bravado, very debonair but when the fan hits the ceiling, they fall apart quickly."

"Why didn't you tell him about the other note?"

"I was more interested in seeing his reaction to the photograph and I doubt very much he had anything to do with that note."

"We should get in touch with the wife… get her story…"

"I don't think we'll find out much more than what he's already told us."

"So you're thinking that this is a suicide?" His subordinate asked thoughtfully.

To that comment the inspector made no reply.

While the two detectives were talking, the music director of the London Symphonia made his way toward his friend's hospital room.

"How's he doing?" He asked the attending physician who was examining the patient.

"He's in a critical stage but his condition's stabilized for now. The next 24 hours will be key. It's probably just as well that you found when you did. You probably saved his life."

I'm sure he's going to thank me for it too. Beresford winced at the irony of the situation. "A person can't drink themselves to death, can they, doctor?"

"They can… if they have a liver condition."

"Peter's got a liver condition…?"

"I don't think he knew himself. Or probably ignored the warning signs."

"You know, doctor… this has been a day of many surprises and none of them good. I would hate to tempt fate and leave this place. However, duty calls. Can you be so kind as to ring me if anything comes up?"

"Will do."

III

Stresemann's tone of voice showed plainly that he was unimpressed. "You've been careless."

"Easy for you to say…" Stanton muttered. "So what am I going to do?"

"Do? There's nothing to do… ignore it… don't give that person the satisfaction of knowing that they're right. It doesn't look like they want anything from you anyway."

"I can't just do nothing. What if my wife finds out…"

"Well, you should have thought of that before… "

"Is this all you're going to say to me? You of all people." Stanton was showing his exasperation. "I should've known better than to come to you for sympathy."

"This is why I've remained single… saves all the trouble and expense of having to explain myself to anyone."

Some help you are. To think…

Stanton's train of thought was rudely cut off by the ringing on Stresemann's phone.

"Franz… it's me… Johnson." said the urgent tone on the other side of the line.

"What's wrong, Johnson?" Stresemann could hear the fear in the man's voice.

"Othello tried to kill me… in fact he probably would have if Swanson hadn't been around."

"Why… what happened…"

"Some bastard told him that I was doing the dirty on him with his wife."

"Were you?"

"No… what do you think I am… stupid? I want to live for a very long time. I only talked to the woman once and that was for one minute."

"Did he say who told him?"

"No… the animal received an anonymous note and came to confirm it in person."

"You said he received an anonymous note, eh?"

"And the idiot believed it."
"Come to my room… I think we need to talk."

Stresemann hung up and remained silent for some time absorbed in his thoughts.

Wondering what had transpired, Stanton looked at him curiously. The old man looks worried. That's a change. Must be something important.. "What is it? What did Johnson have to say?"

"Jankowski was close to killing him."

"Jankowski? Why?"

"Something about his wife…"

"It's always something about his wife." was Stanton's wry comment.

It had been too good to last. That nebulous feeling that something was brewing in the air was turning into something much more palpable.

With everything else he had taken on, Chiaki felt that he had dug himself deeper and deeper into the hole that he was in. The subdued atmosphere that permeated the meetings thus far had merely been the lull before the storm. The vociferous in-fighting he witnessed three years previous had degenerated into a hodge podge of sly accusations ranging from damaging truths, half truths and outright lies in the form of poison pen notes. Some one had been busy… planting seeds of fear, doubt and dissent in their midst. The motive was unclear at this stage. Was it the work of one or many? There were many questions that needed answers. Several members had already been targeted and were demanding, in no uncertain terms, that the committee get to the bottom of this. There was talk of bringing in the local authorities but no one seemed sure if any crime had been committed. Nor did they wish to admit to any. The truth was, secrets abound and everyone was keen to avoid a scandal as much as possible.

An uneasy truce fell over the factions… it was clear that there was a malicious and perhaps malevolent force at work, perhaps seeking to undermine the very foundations of the guild itself. The task fell to Chiaki… who seemed the obvious choice and the only member not only competent enough but trustworthy enough (at least by the competing factions) to undertake the investigation of such a sensitive nature.

Chiaki protested vehemently. "I don't know if I'm the right person to do this. I'm a conductor not a detective."

"Chiaki, everyone trusts you… they are quite certain at least, that you don't have any ulterior motives." Stresemann had said to him. "Think of yourself as a peacemaker… and a confidant to all these men."

"Why can't Weiss do it…"

"Well, not everyone has much confidence in Weiss' ability to… erm… get the job done."

"I'm not that confident that I'm the one to solve this either!"

"Think of how many friends you'll make if you succeed.

"I don't care… I don't have time. We should just bring the police in."

"There's no need for the police… Someone is playing pranks and we just need to find out who and get them… to… er… stop." Before somebody else really gets hurt.

"Ask someone else…"

"There is no else. No one wants to do it or no one wants them to do it."

A defeated Chiaki muttered feebly. "It's not fair..." To her… I've already asked so much of her…

Stresemann shot him a rare sympathetic look. "It never is."

Chiaki returned to his room with a heavy heart… disappointed and furious with himself for giving in. What am I going to tell her? That I'm putting the interests of the guild ahead of her… that I'm going to miss her recital tonight… and probably the others as well… because some vengeful lunatic is sending anonymous messages to guild members and the dirty work of trying to track him has been left to me.

He slammed his fist on the table with a note of despair. Damn. What a wonderful way to start our married life…

A few years earlier he would have had little qualms about any of this and perhaps would have even relished the opportunity to hone his analytical skills or added another line to his curriculum vitae. But he was now a man with different priorities and with the spectre of the Rome incident constantly gnawing at the back of his mind, self-promotion paled into insignificance especially when it meant relegating his new wife to the sidelines. Every minute that he had with her was invariably precious and now it seemed that their meager time together in Vienna would be further disrupted by his work. A job that no one else was suited to do, it seemed. It was nonsensical… a complete farce worthy of Mozart himself. And he, Shinichi Chiaki, happened to be in the middle of it.

He hadn't expected this tug of war so soon… he had anticipated some creative juggling of their respective careers but this current kerfuffle had been beyond the scope of his imagination. Already, he was being sorely tested about where his loyalties lay and in his first test, he would show himself to be the failure of a husband that he was.

"Sen…Hus…Shinichi… you're back!" She stood at the doorway only for a second before skipping jubilantly into his arms. He made no attempt to resist but his body went limp as his arms dangled over her shoulders.

"The Sala Terrena is a wonderful place…" She twittered happily. "I can't wait to play there tonight…" The words died on her lips as soon as she saw the depressed look. "Anata… what's the matter? What happened?"

Silence reigned in that room for what felt like hours. Nodame was beginning to feel alarmed.Did something bad happen during the meeting? Is it his mother? The Miyoshi family?

He did not dare face her. "Something serious has come up… and I can't attend… your recital… I'm… sorry…"

"Oh…" She tried to suppress the disappointment that was rising. "It's just the one right? You can still attend the other two, can't you?" She tried to sound more cheerful.

He gave her no answer which she took to be his answer.

"Oh…" She released herself from his embrace and moved towards the window overlooking the main street. A rush of emotions gripped her. Disappointment, frustration, confusion… each taking their turn to rattle her mind.

Is this what Milch was talking about? Was he trying to warn me about this?

There are things that are going to happen that will test him as a man and he is going to need all your strength and determination to get through this.

"Nodame… I'm sorry… I… You probably hate me. I hate… myself."

A tear rolled down her face. No… I mustn't let him see me like this. Milch is right, I have to be strong. I have survived worse… and I can survive this.

"No… I don't hate you." She quickly wiped the tear and swallowed her emotions. "I…" Summoning all her inner resources, she changed her tone of voice to something more assertive… more resolute.

"What do you think I am? So weak and pathetic that I would fall apart just because you can't make it to my recital."

Chiaki was flabbergasted. "Huh…" That was definitely not the reaction he was expecting.

She turned to face him squarely. "I'm a professional musician now, Chiaki." She prodded him in the chest. "There will be many occasions in our married life when I'll have to go off on tour without you. If I can't accept this reality now, then I'll should just give up performing altogether."

"Nodame… you don't have to…"

She deliberately ignored his feeble protest. "We both knew that our careers would keep us busy. I knew that when I married you that you would be a busy world famous conductor. Your career is important to you and I know that so you don't have to apologize if your work makes all kinds of demands on you."

"You're not angry with me?"

"Of course I'm angry with you… For thinking so little of me… I'm not some silly lovesick schoolgirl anymore. If you can't accept this, then maybe you should go and find yourself another wife."

Saying that she turned away in a huff and folded her arms determinedly.

For an entire minute, Chiaki stood motionless in shock before recovering from the tirade. He slipped his arms around her from behind and nuzzled up to her. I don't deserve you. "I like this wife fine." He said as turned her shoulders around to face him.

He saw the tearstained face she had tried to hide from him but then perceived in her eyes an unwavering gleam. This is why I'm only half the man I am without you.

Her lips appeared to beckon to him… He didn't need much persuasion. It was an invitation he accepted wholeheartedly and threw himself further into the task of enjoying the pleasures that they offered. While engrossed in the sampling of her lips, nape and shoulders, he was thrown off guard by a shrilly outburst that threatened to shatter his eardrums.

"Mukya!" She pulled away from him, wrinkling her nose in distaste.

"What's wrong?"

"Gabon. Have you started smoking again?" She demanded, repelled by the smell of tobacco that lingered on his clothing.

"There… there was an emergency meeting earlier… it's been a stressful time for everyone. Many of the members were smoking continuously the whole time."

"Take that awful jacket off… and that shirt off. What were these people smoking in there?" She continued sniffing his hair.

"Pipes, cigarettes, cigars… and probably other kinds of illegal things."

"You are not coming an inch closer until you take a shower or something." She insisted, pushing him away towards the bathroom. "Go… now… otherwise you can forget about the Nodame special."

Chiaki sighed helplessly as he peeled the layers of clothing in preparation for his shower, pondering with much regret about the Nodame Special that could have been. That woman… honestly… she has no problems wallowing in the dreck of a rubbish dump but becomes irritatingly particular because of the smell of tobacco on my clothes?

"Any regrets?"

"You asking me that now after what we just did…"

"You know your mother's going to kill me after this, don't you?"

"Kill us… she's going to kill us…"

"You sound almost happy for her to do so…"

"I am happy but I want to live a long time… have a house somewhere and children."

"Children? Really?"

"Don't you want any?"

"Of course I do… but I thought you wouldn't want any or at least for a while, with your career…"

"My career… I've had it with my career…"

"Rui… what's wrong?"

"I want to give up the piano… after over 16 years on the circuit… I've had enough. I want a normal life with a husband and kids."

"I thought you loved playing the piano."

"I do… but I'm ready for a new challenge."

"Why didn't you tell me all this before? I never thought you wanted this kind of life. Afterall, you kept putting off us getting married the past three years. Was it your mother?"

"No… it wasn't my mother. It was never my mother… I just couldn't make up my mind." She paused momentarily before continuing. "There were things in my past that I didn't want to let go… I kept thinking… hoping… but anyway, it doesn't matter now. I was a fool."

"Are you fool now? To have married me in such a hasty manner?"

She shook her head slowly and nestled closer to her new husband. "I was a fool to have hesitated as long as I did."

"I should get ready for the recital." Megumi Noda seemed unnecessarily eager, at least to her husband to leave his side.

"Don't be in such a hurry…" Her husband was in an amorous mood and was reluctant to relinquish his hold on her. "You don't have to go anywhere for at least half an hour." He said languidly.

"But…"

"But what…"

A knock on the door provided her with a way out.

"Are we expecting anyone?"

"Yes…" She jumped out of the bed and hastily slipped on a bathrobe.

"Who?" He glared at her furiously. "Why didn't you tell me someone was coming?"

"Why… we are on our honeymoon… Why are you embarrassed for people to think that we're doing the man and woman music thing?"

Chiaki slapped himself on the forehead in despair. "I have married a hentai and an exhibitionist."

"Relax, husband… it's just room service…"

The husband did relax… slightly… "You could've at least given me some warning."

"Well, I did kind of… forget… Too much passion addles the brain."

"That brain was already problematic before…" He grumbled before throwing off his covers and covering himself discreetly with a towel, sneaking off to the bathroom.

The wife skipped gaily to the door and opened it for the extremely patient service attendant waiting with his trolley.

"You ordered room service, Mrs Chiaki?"

Mrs Chiaki… That is the second time today… I could really get used to it.

"Ahhhh… that smells wonderful…" Nodame lifted one of the lids off the serving trays drank in the aroma.

"Would you like me to set the table for you?"

"You'll do that?"

"If you want me to…"

"Absolutely… please do."

Nodame watched fascinated as the attendant moved about the table expertly, with the adroitness of a ballerina gliding around the table. In no time at all, everything was perfectly laid out for two.

"Will this be all?"

"Yes… thank you…"

"A pleasure, Mrs Chiaki." The room service attendant efficiently took himself out of the intimate setting that he had briefly trespassed into.

Having missed the action, the husband completely dressed, walked in and cast a critical eye over the spread.

"Why did you order so much food?" He rolled his eyes in exasperation.

"Because I cannot perform on an empty stomach."

"Are you going to be able to fit into your dress after this?"

"Oh yes… no problems… I had mum make a few adjustments before the wedding."

"It sounds like you're expecting to put on weight."

"I'm not taking any chances. My zipper got stuck again at the Tilburn… and I spent the whole time worrying about the dress… which is probably why I lost. Tonight Nodame makes history looking elegant."

"You're wearing that black number?" Chiaki observed, looking at the black dress hanging by the bed.

"Huh… don't you like it…"

Chiaki put on his most neutral face. "I don't not like it but I thought you were wearing that turquoise dress that you bought at Rome."

"Well… you didn't seem to like it much that time…"

"I didn't say that…" He quickly averted his eyes.

"Yes you did… you said it was 'nice'. People use the word 'nice' when they have nothing nice to say about something."

"That's absurd. I liked the dress. You looked really nice in it…"

"There you see… it's that word again… you don't even sound convincing." His wife pounced on him, mistaking his awkwardness for disinterest.

"I loved it… alright… Happy?" He reached for her hand and took it. In a more gentle tone of voice, he spoke into her eyes. "That night… you looked ravishing in it and took my breath away. It took everything I had not to…"

"Anata…" She reached for his face and caressed his cheek.

They both said nothing… there was nothing to say. Their lips met and moved in other ways that rendered the need for words unnecessary.

Author's Comments:

Our household has been plagued by illness all of last week and I'm only just coming out of a crazy week of bugs (viruses). I apologize for taking so long but I think some things are worth taking time over.

My thanks to the following reviewers Ebony10, kana-chan, silverquill and kandida. I'm always very interested in what it is that readers like/don't like about a particular chapter.