HARRY RENTED ME a van from a place in Roppongi, using alias ID just in case, while I waited at his apartment to keep my exposure down. His apartment is a strange place, crammed with arcane electronic equipment, but nothing to make his life more comfortable. He’d told me a few years earlier that he’d read how the police had caught some indoor marijuana farmers by monitoring their electric bills—seems that hydroponic equipment sucks down a lot more electricity than average—and now Harry thinks his electronic signature might lead the police to him. So he doesn’t use any electrical appliances that aren’t absolutely necessary: a category that, in Harry’s world, doesn’t include a refrigerator, heat, or air-conditioning.
When he came back, we loaded the equipment into the back of the van. It’s sophisticated stuff. The laser reads the vibrations on windows that are caused by conversation inside, then feeds the resulting data into a computer, which breaks down the patterns into words. And the infrared can read minutely different temperatures on glass—the kind caused by body heat in an otherwise cool room.
When we were done, I parked the van and made my way back to Shibuya, of course conducting a solid SDR en route.
I got to the hotel at a little past one o’clock. I had picked up some sandwiches at a stand I found on one of the nameless streets that snake off Dogenzaka, and Midori and I ate them sitting on the floor while I filled her in on what was going on. I gave her the package I had brought, told her that she should wear the scarf and sunglasses when she went out. I gave her Harry’s address, told her to put her things together and meet me there in two hours.
When I arrived at Harry’s, he was already running Kawamura’s disk. A half hour later the buzzer rang; Harry walked over to the intercom, pressed a button, and said, “Hai.”
“Watashi desu” came the response. It’s me. I nodded, getting up to check the window, and Harry pressed the button to open the front entrance. Then he walked over to his door, opened it, and peered out. Better to see who’s coming before they get to your position, while you still have time to react.
A minute later he opened the door wide and motioned Midori to come inside.
I said to her in Japanese, “This is Harry, the friend I told you about. He’s a little shy around people because he spends all his time with computers. Just be nice to him and he’ll open up after a while.”
“Hajimemashite,” Midori said, turning to Harry and bowing. Nice to meet you.
“It’s nice to meet you,” Harry responded in Japanese. He was blinking rapidly, and I could see that he was nervous. “Please don’t listen to my friend. The government used him to test experimental drugs during the war, and it’s led to premature senility.”
Harry? I thought, impressed with his sudden gumption.
Midori made a face of perfect innocence and said, “It was caused by drugs?”
She had a light touch with him, I was glad to see. Harry looked at me with a radiant smile, feeling he’d finally gotten the better of me, and maybe had found an ally, too.
“Okay, I can see you’re both going to get along,” I said, cutting them off before Harry used his newfound courage to escalate to who knows what. “We don’t have much time. This is the plan.” I explained to Midori what I was going to do.
“I don’t like it,” she said, when I was done. “They could see you. It could be dangerous.”
“No one’s going to see me.”
“You should give Harry and me some time with the musical code.”
“I’ve already been over this with Harry. You both do your jobs; I’ll do mine. It’s more efficient. I’ll be fine.”
I DROVE THE van to the Conviction facility in Shibakoen, just south of the government district in Kasumigaseki. Conviction occupied part of the second floor of a building on Hibiya-dori, across from Shiba Park. I would use the laser to pick up the locus of conversation in their offices, and then, based on Harry’s analysis of what we picked up, I’d be able to guess which room or rooms would be the best candidates for a transmitter. The same equipment would tell me when the offices had emptied out, probably well after dark, and that’s when I’d go in to place the bug. The video might help us identify anyone else who was involved with the Agency and Conviction, and give us some clues about the nature of the connection between the two.
I parked across the street from the building. The spot was in a no-parking zone, but it was a good enough location to risk a ticket from a bored meter maid.
I had just finished setting up the equipment and targeting it at the appropriate windows when I heard a tap on the van’s passenger-side window. I looked up and saw a uniformed cop. He was rapping the glass with his nightstick.
Oh, shit. I made a conciliatory gesture, as though I was going to just drive away, but he shook his head and said, “Dete yo.” Get out.
The equipment was pointing out the back driver-side window, and wasn’t visible from the cop’s vantage point. I would have to take a chance. I slid across to the passenger side and opened the door, then stepped down onto the curb.
There were three men waiting on the blind side of the van, where I couldn’t see them until I was outside. They were armed with matching Beretta 92 Compacts and wore sunglasses and bulky coats—light disguise to change the shape of the face and the build. I took this to mean that they would shoot me if I resisted, counting on the disguises to confuse potential witnesses. They all had the classic kendoka’s ears. I recognized the one standing closest to me from outside Midori’s apartment—the guy with the flat nose who had gone in after I had ambushed Midori’s would-be abductors. One of them thanked the cop, who turned and walked away.
They motioned me across the street, and there wasn’t much I could do except comply. At least this solved the problem of how I was going to get into the building. I had an earpiece in my pocket, as well as one of Harry’s custom adhesive-backed microtransmitters. If I saw the chance, I’d put the transmitter in place.
They brought me in the front entrance, their hands staying steady in their coat pockets. We took the stairs to the second floor, the three of them crowding me on the way up, taking away any room to maneuver. When we got to the landing at the top of the stairs, Flatnose shoved me up against the wall, pushing his gun against my neck. One of his partners patted me down. He was looking for a weapon and didn’t notice the small transmitter in my pocket.
When he was done, Flatnose took a step back and suddenly kneed me in the balls. I doubled over and he kicked me in the stomach, then twice again in the ribs. I dropped down to my knees, sucking wind, pain shooting through my torso. I was trying to get my arms up in anticipation of another blow when one of them stepped between Flatnose and me, saying “Iya, sono kurai ni shite oke.” That’s enough. I wondered distantly if I was in for a game of good cop, bad cop.
We stayed like that for a few minutes, Flatnose’s friend restraining him while I tried to catch my breath. When I was able I stood up, and they took me down a short hallway with closed doors on both sides. We stopped outside the last door on the right. Flatnose knocked, and a voice answered, “Dozo.” Come in.
They brought me into a room that was spacious by Japanese standards, furnished in the traditional minimalist fashion. Lots of light-hued wood, expensive-looking ceramics on the shelves. The walls were decorated with hanga, wood-block prints. Probably originals. A small leather couch and armchairs in one corner of the room, arranged around a spotless glass coffee table. The overall appearance was clean and prosperous, which I guessed was the impression these people wanted to project. Maybe they hid Flatnose and his pals when they had guests.
There was a wooden desk on the far side of the room. It took me a second to recognize the guy sitting behind it. I hadn’t seen him in a suit before.
It was the judoka from the Kodokan. The one I’d fought in randori.
“Hello, John Rain,” he said, with a small smile. “Hisashiburi desu ne.” It’s been awhile.
I returned his gaze. “Hello, Yamaoto.”
He stood up and circled to the front of the desk with the strong, graceful movements that I had first noticed at the Kodokan. “Thank you for coming today,” he said. “I was expecting you.”
That much was clear. “Sorry I didn’t call first,” I told him.
“No, no, not at all. That I would never expect. But I did anticipate that you would find a way to take the initiative—after all, as a judoka you are more comfortable on the offensive, using defense merely as a feint.”
He nodded to his men, told them in Japanese to wait outside. I watched them file out quietly, Flatnose eyeing me as he closed the door behind them.
“Did I do something to offend the ugly one?” I asked, rubbing my ribs. “I get the feeling he doesn’t like me.”
“Was he rough with you? I told him not to be, but he has trouble controlling his temper. Ishikawa, the man you killed outside your apartment, was a friend of his.”
“Sorry to hear that.”
He shook his head as though it was all a misunderstanding. “Dozo, suwatte kudasai,” he said. “Please, sit. Would you like something to drink?”
“No, thank you. I’m not thirsty. And I’m more comfortable standing.”
He nodded. “I know what you are thinking, Rain-san. Don’t forget, I’ve seen how fast you are. That is why there are three armed men outside the door—in case you manage to get past me.” He smiled, a supremely confident smile, and remembering how things went at the Kodokan, I knew his confidence was justified. “That would be an interesting contest, but now is not the time. Please, why don’t you make yourself comfortable, and we can think of a way to solve our mutual problem.”
“ ‘Mutual problem’?”
“Yes, the problem is mutual. You have something that I want, or you know where it is. Once I have it, you will no longer be a liability, and we can ‘live and let live.’ But if I don’t have it, the situation becomes more difficult.”
I was silent, waiting to see if he would say more. After a moment he said, “I really would like to talk with you. Dozo kakete kudasai.” Please sit.
I bowed my head and walked over to one of the chairs facing the couch, putting my hands in my pockets as I did so, affecting an air of resignation. I switched on the transmitter. Regardless of how this turned out, Harry would at least hear everything. I sat down and waited.
“Thank you,” he said, sitting opposite me on the couch. “Now tell me, how did you find me?”
I shrugged. “Your man Ishikawa broke into my apartment and tried to kill me. I got his cell phone and used it to find out he’s connected to you. The rest was just taking the initiative, as you say—the best defense is a good offense.”
“Ishikawa wasn’t at your apartment to kill you. He was there to question you.”
“If that was Ishikawa’s idea of ‘questioning,’ ” I said, “you should send him to Dale Carnegie.”
“Regardless. We are not after you—only the disk.”
“Disk?”
“Please don’t insult my intelligence. You’re protecting Kawamura Midori.”
That caught me by surprise. But then I realized—the men who were waiting for her at her apartment. They must have been Yamaoto’s people. They’d been focusing on her, thinking that if she had her father’s things she might have the disk, and then I walked into the picture. It was only after I ambushed them and Midori went underground that they started coming at me.
“What does she have to do with this?”
“I know that her father had the disk when he died. It is therefore likely that she has it now. And she is in hiding.”
“Of course she’s in hiding. She had the same kind of welcome party at her apartment that I had at mine. She knows she’s in danger but doesn’t understand why.”
“Ordinarily a person in her position would go to the police. She has not done so.”
“I wouldn’t know anything about that. I don’t trust the police myself.”
“Where is she?”
“I don’t know. She took off after the ambush at her apartment. She thought I was with your people.”
“Really? She hasn’t resurfaced.”
“Maybe she’s staying with friends—in the country or something. She looked pretty scared to me.”
“I see,” he said, steepling his fingers. “You understand, Rain-san, there is information on that disk that would be harmful to Japan, useful to her enemies, if revealed. These enemies are looking for the disk, too.”
I thought of Holtzer, how he wanted to turn the Japanese government into a “fuckboy,” as only Holtzer could put it.
One thing I didn’t understand. “Why the contact at the Kodokan?” I asked.
“Curiosity,” he said, his posture contemplative. “I wanted to know what would drive a man with a history like yours. If I had known then of the way you would soon be involved in this matter, I would of course have avoided the contact.”
“What do mean, ‘history’?”
“A man of two such opposed countries and cultures.”
“I think I’m missing something. Other than the fact that I inadvertently showed up at the same time as your men at Midori’s apartment, I didn’t know we were acquainted.”
“Ah, of course. You wouldn’t know, but I have retained you for your services from time to time.”
Through Benny, then. Christ, the little bastard really slept around. Probably reselling my services at a markup. Not any more, though.
“So you see, until recently, your interests and mine have always been aligned. If we can just clear up this one matter, we can return to the status quo ante bellum.”
He wanted that disk badly. I hoped Harry’s algorithms were up to speed.
“The problem, as I’ve said, is that I don’t know where this disk is, or even what it is,” I told him. “If I did, I’d give it to you. But I don’t.”
He frowned. “I am sorry to hear that. And Kawamura’s daughter, she doesn’t know, either?”
“How would I know?”
He nodded his head gravely. “This is a problem. You see, until I have what I am looking for, Kawamura’s daughter is a liability. It would be much safer for her if the item were returned to me.”
In that moment I was tempted to believe that there was some truth to what he was saying. If he had the disk back, Midori wouldn’t be a liability.
But there were other parties after it, too, and they would have no way of knowing that Midori didn’t have it anymore. Besides, the logistics were impossible. Yamaoto would never let me leave on the strength of a promise to return with the disk, and I wasn’t going to tell him where to find Midori and Harry. Besides, there was no guarantee that he wouldn’t go on cleaning up loose ends even after the disk had been returned.
“For what it’s worth, I don’t think she has what you’re looking for,” I said. “Why would Kawamura have given her anything, anyway? He would have known it would have put her in danger, right?”
“He may have given it to her inadvertently. Besides, as I have said already, the fact that she has not gone to the police is telling.”
I said nothing, waiting for him.
“Enough games,” he said finally. He stood and walked over to a coat rack, where he took a suit jacket off a hanger. “I have an appointment elsewhere and have no more time to try to persuade you. Tell me where I can find the disk, or tell me where to find Kawamura Midori.”
“I told you I don’t know.”
“Unfortunately, there is only one way to confirm your ignorance. I think you know what it is.”
Neither of us said anything more for about a full minute. I heard him exhale, as though he had been holding his breath. “Rain-san, you are in a difficult position, and I am sympathetic. But you must understand that I will have what I want. If you tell me now, as a friend, then I can trust you. You will be free to leave. But if my men have to acquire the information from you by other means, I may not be able to let you go afterwards. In fact, you may not be in a condition to go. Do you understand? If I don’t have the disk, I am forced to do the next best thing: systematically eliminate every risk associated with it. So you see, it would be much better if you tell me now.”
I folded my arms across my chest and regarded him. My look was impassive, but inside my head I was playing a map of the hallway, the staircase, trying to find a way out.
He must have really been hoping I would crack—he waited a long time. Finally he called for his men. The door opened, and I was surrounded and pulled to my feet. He barked some orders at them in Japanese. Find out where the disk is. And Midori. Whatever it takes.
They hauled me out of the room. Behind me, Yamaoto was saying, “I am very disappointed.” I barely heard it. I was too busy looking for a way out.