Nakamura hailed a cab and had to drag Neil into the seat beside him. “Okay, Nose. Let’s drop off our bags and then we’ll lose ourselves in the throng and do a little digging. Nori probably has a car here to pick us up, but I think we should take our own cab.”

Neil stared at the constantly moving streetscape. Lots of people stared back. The site of a gangly redheaded chef was just as odd to them as their city was to Neil.

The cab barely moved in the traffic and soon Nakamura was sound asleep. Neil went back to gazing at all the people and shops.

A tapping noise jolted Neil from his thoughts. It was coming from the rear window. Neil turned around. There was a bike courier right behind them. He waved at Neil to roll down his window, then pulled up alongside, squeezing himself into an almost impossible space between the gridlocked cars. Neil thought for a bizarre moment that Gary had followed them to Tokyo.

Neil rolled down his window, just a bit, and the courier slipped an envelope through the slit. Then he made an abrupt left turn and disappeared.

Neil examined the envelope. Instructions for Round #1 was written on the front. He was tempted to wake Nakamura, if only to tell him that Nori didn’t need a driver to know how to find them, but decided to let him sleep.

He opened the envelope and read the instructions.

TO SOLVE THE FIRST CLUE,

SEVEN DAYS, BUT YOU HAVE ONE

RED HAIR AS YOUR GUIDE

(PS: BE AT THE DOCKS TOMORROW AT FOUR P.M. LOOK TO THE SKIES.)

“Oh brother, a haiku? You’ve got to be kidding me.” Neil stared at the clue again, his mind drawing a complete blank. It was like being in English class all over again. “What the heck does this even mean?” The references were completely lost on him. Red hair? Was the secret ingredient his hair? He scanned his memory for any reference to hair in Japanese cuisine. Other than a bad joke Larry had once told him about a waiter and dandruff, he drew a blank.

This was going to take forever to figure out. How the heck could he search for Larry while he was looking for some stupid ingredient?

Nakamura blinked awake. He saw the look on Neil’s face and immediately knew something was up. “What’s the deal?” he said.

Neil handed him the letter. A huge smile spread across Nakamura’s face. “Too easy,” he scoffed. “We’ll even have hours left over to look for that ‘other’ ingredient.” Now that they were in Tokyo “ingredient” was their code name for Larry.

Neil was dumbfounded.

Then without another word of explanation, Nakamura closed his eyes and went back to sleep.

*   *   *

“You’re telling me this clue is so easy a child could figure it out?” Neil said angrily. He and Nakamura had checked into their hotel and now were strolling down a series of increasingly seedy-looking alleyways. The narrow paths were made even more constricted by rows of makeshift stalls selling everything from sweet-smelling drinks to homemade reed mats.

“A Japanese child could, for sure.” Nakamura smiled. He was clearly enjoying having the upper hand on Neil and had no intention of letting him in on the secret.

“Will you at least tell me where we’re heading?” Neil could tell they were getting closer and closer to some seriously potent food shops. His nose had picked up that aroma, among others that were less appetizing, as soon as they’d turned the last corner. The dirtier and more cramped the alleys, the more savory the aroma. This was a part of Tokyo he hadn’t seen from the cab window.

“I know a place where we can get the stuff for your so-called secret ingredient, and then start our investigating.”

Neil noticed Nakamura hadn’t stopped anyone to ask for directions or even slowed down to read street signs.

“How do you know where to go? You haven’t been here in years.”

“You don’t forget a place like this,” Nakamura said, making a right turn. “Almost there.”

Now the smells were coming at Neil in waves—and they were glorious. Wherever they were heading, he was starting to look forward to the arrival.

“How do you know this place is still open?”

“I highly doubt it’s going to close after a thousand years. Besides, I think Suzu has been running the place since the beginning; he isn’t going to let it go out of business now,” Nakamura said with a chuckle.

“Suzu? Who’s Suzu?”

Nakamura stopped in the middle of the alley and pointed straight ahead. “He is.”

Neil saw an old man with an incredibly long beard and white hair sitting in front of what looked like a wooden shack. Silk banners hung down from the sides, darkened with age and tattered.

“You’re taking me to a pawn shop?” Neil asked.

Nakamura rolled his eyes. “Please. I know that your nose picked up the scent of this place ages ago, so can the cheap shots. This is Suzu’s Emporium, the best spice shop in Japan, maybe the world.” He stepped forward. “You can get almost anything.”

Suzu’s eyes were almost completely covered with thick white eyebrows but Neil saw him look up as Nakamura approached. “Sean Nakamura,” he said with a raspy voice, in perfect English. “It’s been a while. You look so much like your father.”

Nakamura nodded sadly. “He first brought me here when I was just a little boy,” he explained to Neil. “This was his secret location for great ingredients when he was a chef.” He turned back to Suzu and told him the clue. “Do you happen to have seven spices that a redheaded chef might use?”

Suzu laughed, a kind of wheezing cough really. He heaved so much Neil was worried he was going to fall over and break something. Suzu stood up, still chuckling, and beckoned for them to follow him inside.

Neil passed through the silk curtain and let out a long low whistle. He felt like an explorer who had just walked into a cave of golden statues. Each possible bit of space on the shelves was filled with jars of spices, dried mushrooms, and glistening oils. The colors were glorious. The smells were profound.

Neil knelt down by open bags of rice and was blown away by their freshness. He was soon running from shelf to shelf, sniffing everything like a dog in a new home.

“I see your young friend has a deep appreciation of quality.” Suzu smiled. He handed Neil a sliver of smoked eel. Neil ate it, and the flavors exploded on his tongue.

“I want to buy it all, the whole store,” Neil said.

“Hold on there, Nose,” Nakamura said. “Remember the riddle. Any seven spices stick out for a ginger like you?”

Neil finally figured it out. “Of course. Shichimi togarashi,” he said sheepishly. “The seven great spices.” Nakamura and Suzu nodded. Japanese chefs had used the mixture for centuries. You could even buy over-the-counter premixed versions in almost every corner store. No wonder Nakamura had said it was a simple clue. But he knew his young chef friend better than to think he’d be interested in supermarket spices. Premixed was not a word in Neil Flambé’s vocabulary.

Bringing him here was a gift. “Thanks, faithful servant,” he said, smiling at Nakamura.

“Go crazy,” Nakamura said. “I’ll see if there’s any information available here to go with the spices.”

Neil walked to the shelves and picked out red chili pepper, Sichuan pepper, orange peel, and ginger. He used his nose to choose the best and freshest. All red, like my hair, and spicy and amazing, he thought. Then he rounded out the spice mixture with white and black sesame seeds and the seaweed known as aonori.

He still wasn’t sure what type of duel he’d be fighting. The seven-spice mixture was the base of so many Japanese dishes. Neil was sure of one thing—no matter what Nori threw his way, Neil had the best shichimi togarashi possible.

Neil laid a nice pile of money on the front table. Nakamura was standing next to Suzu, nodding as Suzu told him something in Japanese. Neil walked over. Nakamura had a wistful look on his face.

“Suzu was just telling me how my father would pick a very similar mixture, but with slightly less ginger.”

Suzu nodded and looked at Neil. “The spices you are using are very powerful. Be careful not to use too much or you will overpower your dish.”

Neil was not always the most grateful recipient of cooking advice, but he knew Suzu was right. He just bowed and said, “I promise to do my best to honor your wonderful spices.”

Suzu smiled. “Good luck. Now I must close up for the evening. Sean Nakamura, your father is proud of you.”

Nakamura just bowed silently.

Neil and Nakamura walked back out into the alleyway. Neil couldn’t help but turn around to see the spices one more time. To his surprise, the front of the spice tent looked completely different. There was a wall of videocassettes and iron woks on display, but no sign of Suzu or the spices. Neil could still smell them, but where had they gone?

“What the—?” Neil said. He looked at Nakamura for an answer, but he seemed lost in thought.

Neil just shook his head. Tokyo’s a weird place, he thought.

They turned a corner and Nakamura finally spoke. “Now that you have your spices, I think the best place to start looking for leads would be Hiro’s memorial ceremony.”

“When is the ceremony? Can we make it?”

“Yes. It’s tomorrow morning.”

“Where? I need to be at the docks tomorrow afternoon.”

Nakamura smiled. “Down the street from our hotel. That’s why I booked us in there. Now let’s find a safe Wi-Fi spot and see if Larry’s sent us any other clues.”

Neil nodded. He somehow felt that Larry was close, and (he hoped) no longer in danger.