by Barry Eisler
He shrugged. 'Luxury has gone mass market. The super-rich have to find ways to distinguish themselves. I read about a new sports car that just came out, the Bugatti Veyron. It costs over a million dollars.'
'Yeah, I just put in my order for two.'
He laughed, but the laugh became a cough. He fitted the oxygen tube under his nose and breathed for a moment, then said, 'There are already several owners in Tokyo, you know, and many more on the waiting list. Men who can afford a car like that aren't put off by outrageous club fees. They welcome them, as a sign of status.'
He took a sip of water. 'But there's an important collateral benefit beyond the direct profit: the deals brokered with the politicians, businessmen, and crime bosses who are entertained there as guests. United Bamboo, for example. Yamaoto and Big Liu closed their methamphetamine arrangement at the club.'
'That's why they're meeting there again? Auspicious location?'
'Apparently Big Liu enjoyed himself greatly. He seems to have a predilection for blondes.'
Blondes. My notion of whom we might turn to as a 'man' inside sharpened. But there was no way Delilah was going to agree to this. And I didn't see how I could ask her.
'If the girl's price doesn't match the customer's,' I said, 'she doesn't have to leave with him. But what about when they're entertaining a guy like Big Liu? They're going to just turn him down?'
'For a big shot like Liu, the girls are expected to provide complimentary services. It doesn't matter how old he is or what he looks like. You're his for the night and he had better wake up with a smile the next morning. Otherwise, the girl is fired.'
'And suddenly cut off from the incredible cash flow she's gotten used to.'
'Precisely.'
Not exactly what I was hoping to hear. Maybe I could gloss over the 'If you help me, you might have to sleep with a repulsive, degenerate gangster' part of the sales pitch.
'Well?' he said, after a moment. 'Is any of this useful?'
'Maybe,' I told him. 'There might be someone I can get inside. I'll let you know. You have any pictures of Big Liu? I want to know what he looks like.'
Tatsu pressed the call button by the bed. The bodyguard came in.
'I'll take that file now, please,' Tatsu told him.
The man wordlessly handed Tatsu a large envelope and returned to his post.
'So this is how you're getting all this work done while you're laid up,' I observed.
He smiled and handed me the envelope. I unsealed it and took out a folder. Inside were several police and surveillance photos of a fat but still dangerous-looking Chinese man with graying hair and pockmarked skin.
'Big for a Chinese,' I commented.
'Hence the name,' Tatsu said, with his trademark 'infinite patience' tone.
'I see you've got Yamaoto in here, too. And who's this guy?'
'That's Kuro. I thought a dossier on the principals might be helpful.'
'Thanks. It is.'
He nodded. 'You don't have much time.'
I looked at him, frail and diminished on the hospital bed, tubes in his arms and up his nose, and realized he wasn't talking about Yamaoto's meeting.
'Are you… can I get you anything?' I asked.
He looked at me, his eyes fierce and alive inside his pallid skin.
'Yamaoto,' he said.
27
Delilah was on her way back from a morning workout in her neighborhood in the Marais when her cell phone rang. She stopped walking and looked for it in her bag.
Pedestrians carrying fresh bread and cut flowers and bags of fruit from the open-air market on Rue de Bretagne maneuvered around her on the narrow sidewalk. She ignored them and looked at the phone. The caller ID said private.
She'd been feeling delightfully relaxed from two hours of yoga and Pilates, but now her heart was suddenly beating harder. She pressed the receive button and said, 'Allo.'
'Hi. It's me. John.'
This time it's hi, she thought. Usually it's hey. She wasn't sure what that meant.
'Hey,' she said.
'How've you been?'
'Fine. I didn't think I was going to hear from you.' She liked the way that sounded. Calm, not accusatory. Just a statement of fact.
'Why did you think that?'
'Last time we talked, it sounded as though you'd gotten pretty tied up in what took you to New York. And then you were going to Tokyo, and I just thought… that was it for us.'
Good, this was really good. Be cool, but get it out in the open. Give him the chance and the inclination to explain, without seeming to ask for that.
'I'm in Tokyo now,' he said. 'And I am tied up. But not the way you think.'
'What is it, then?'
There was a long pause. He said, 'I need your help.'
That wasn't what she'd been expecting. Before she could think it through, she said, 'You know, you call for my help more than you call for my company.'
'You're probably right. And I'm sorry for that. But right now I need both. Can you come to Tokyo?'
'Why?'
'I'll tell you when you get here. Please, Delilah. I wouldn't ask if it weren't important.'
She knew she should say no. But… there was something in his voice, something she'd never heard before. Whatever the problem was, he must have been nearly desperate to ask for her help after their last conversation.
Desperate about what, though? The only thing she could think of was that something had gone wrong when he visited Midori. But the woman had been relaxed when Delilah had seen her… yes, but she was clueless, she wouldn't have known what was going on in the shadows around her.
What could it have been? Was Rain seen? And if so, was his child in danger? If that were the case…
She felt her resolve slipping. But still, it was so damn galling. She wasn't sure what he wanted, but for all she knew its ultimate objective might be a life with Midori and the child.
Still, if something happened to Midori or the child that Delilah could have helped prevent, her own hopes for Rain would be doomed no matter what.
Also, she realized, going to him now might give her a chance to try to correct the mistake she'd made in doing that number on Midori, to provide a cushion against its possible consequences should Rain ever find out.
What if he had found out, though'? Could this be a setup?
No, she couldn't believe that.
But you ran your kind of op on him. Why wouldn't he run his kind on you?
That made the choice clear, didn't it? She could give herself over entirely to suspicion and manipulation, which was to say she could give herself over to fear. She'd already sampled that particular dish, when she went to see Midori in New York, and the aftertaste was still vaguely nauseating.
Or she could go with hope.
'When?' she asked.
'Can you be here tomorrow?'
'Probably.'
'Let me give you a number. Call me and let me know.'
When they were done, she headed back to her apartment to check on flights. There was a 1:20 on Air France leaving that afternoon from De Gaulle, arriving in Tokyo at 9:20 the following morning. If she hurried, she could make it.
28
Tatsu called me that night to tell me he had some items I'd requested. He warned me to expect a different bodyguard this time, which was thoughtful of him. If I saw someone unfamiliar outside his door at night, he knew, it would make me jumpy.
I went to the hospital, using a lot of care in my approach. Repeated meetings in the same place was a huge violation of SOP, but right now obviously there wasn't an alternative.
The new guy knocked, then let me in. Tatsu was on his bed, pale and sweating this time. I looked at him for a moment. 'You okay?' I said.
He nodded, grimacing. 'It's okay. Just… hurts, sometimes. It'll pass.'
I pulled up a chair and sat with him, feeling helpless while he gritted his teeth and groaned.
'Let me get a nurse,' I said. 'She'll give you something for the pain.'
He shook his head. 'They'll give me morphine. It knocks me out. I can't have that. Not now.'
After a few minutes the groaning stopped and his breathing evened out.
'That was a bad one,' he said. 'They're getting more frequent, too. Fewer and fewer breaks. Hand me that towel, would you?'
There was a damp towel on the bedside stand. I gave it to him and he mopped his face.
'Don't worry,' he said, 'I'm all right. You see, cancer is simply nature's way of making you want to die.'
I couldn't laugh, even though I knew he wanted me to. But I managed a weak smile for him.
I put my hand on his shoulder and we sat quietly for a few minutes. I said, 'What have you got for me?'
He pressed the call button. The bodyguard came in and handed him a backpack, then left.
Tatsu gave the backpack to me. I opened it. Inside were a set of floor plans and assorted commo gear.
I pulled out the plans and unfolded them. 'Whispers?'
He nodded. 'And the communications equipment you asked for. Three pairs.'
I shook my head in admiration. 'How do you get ahold of these things?'
He smiled. 'People who owe me favors. The question is, what are you going to do with it?'
'I'm not sure yet. I need to go over these plans, then get a firsthand look at the club. I'll know better after that.'
'What about your inside man?'
I thought about my talk with Delilah. She had called back to say she was coming, but it was tense.
'That's proceeding,' I said. 'But no guarantee yet.'
29
After leaving Tatsu, I bought a pair of binoculars, two pairs of long underwear, and a hat in Shinjuku. Then I went to reconnoiter Whispers.
The club was located in the elegant, tree-lined Minami Aoyama area between Kotto-dori to the east and Nireke-dori to the west, not far from the Nezu art museum. Its immediate neighbors were hip restaurants and chic galleries and exquisite boutiques, sometimes unusual combinations of the three, all bracketed north and south by a pair of nameless streets. The northern one led to the club. The southern one ran behind it along a line of buildings, some of them separated by alleys.
There was a construction site north of the club entrance, which provided a decent vantage point. I watched for a few hours as a group of valets helped people in and out of their expensive cars, but I couldn't see much more than that. Still, it was better to have some firsthand knowledge of the club's environs than none at all. By the time I was done, at two in the morning, I was chilled to the bone.
I went back to the hotel and slept for six hours, then took the train to the airport to meet Delilah. She came through customs looking around, but didn't spot me right away amid the sea of mostly Japanese faces. She was wearing jeans and a black leather jacket, and there was a brown leather carry-on slung over one of her shoulders. Her hair was tied back and she was wearing no makeup that I could see. A little tired, maybe, but otherwise looking radiant as usual.
I watched her unseen for a moment and felt a rush of conflicted emotions. Gratitude that she would do this for me. Guilt that I had asked her. Remorse that I'd fucked up and caused this mess to begin with. And confusion, about who and what I even wanted.
I emerged from behind a cluster of people waiting on friends and family and business interests. She saw me then and nodded.
I stopped in front of her. Every other time I'd seen her after an absence, there had been some kind of embrace. Not today.
'Thanks for coming,' I said.
She nodded. 'Where to?'
'Here, let me take that.' She let me slip the bag off her shoulder and we started navigating through the crowds waiting in the arrivals lounge. She looked around as we walked, and I wondered whether it was operational or more in the way of taking in the unfamiliar sights in a new environment. Probably both.
'I've got a van in the garage,' I said. 'It's about an hour's drive into Tokyo. I'll brief you on the way.'
I glanced over and saw her looking at me, but I couldn't read her expression. 'Have you been here before?' I asked.
She shook her head. 'China once. Never Japan.'
'Maybe I'll get to show you around, then. I know a few places.'
She looked at me. 'But business first. Right?'
I thought she was trying to provoke me. Better not to answer.
On the way into Tokyo I told her everything. Not what had happened with Midori in her apartment, of course, or what I'd felt there — that would have been neither relevant nor useful. But everything else.
She listened quietly while I spoke. When I was done, she said, 'Well, you've certainly been busy since I last saw you.'
'That's one way to put it.'
'Your friend Dox must be pretty loyal to you, to stick with you through this.'
I didn't like the comment. I said, 'That's part of it. We also walked away with a lot of money at Wajima. You can have my share if you want it.'
Let her decide whether she wanted this to be business or personal.
She said, 'You'd have to tell me what you're paying me for first.'
'I think you know.'
'Maybe. You want me to pose as an applicant, reconnoiter this club for you.'
'That's pretty much it.'
'What if I actually get the job? Are you going to mind my sleeping with one of the customers?'
I looked at her. 'Yeah, I'll mind. You're not going to be any good to me if you're not on the premises.'
Her lips started to thin out in anger. Then I smiled and she realized I was teasing her. I shouldn't have done it, maybe, but I had to try something to break the tension.
She shook her head and muttered something in Hebrew. I was glad I couldn't understand what. I went back to driving and an instant later I saw her pivot in her seat, too late to do anything about it. She hit me on the top of the thigh with a thunderous hammer fist and I yelled out, 'Fuck!'
'Don't you make light of me,' she said. 'I am not happy about this.'
'Damn,' I said. 'I was just trying to loosen things up a little.'
'Yeah, well, find another way.'
One or two other smart comments did come insidiously to mind, but I thought better of saying them. We drove in silence for a few minutes. I rubbed my thigh, thinking I was going to have to ice it when I had the chance. She knew what she was doing and had really cracked me.
Seeing how pissed and resentful she was, I wondered for a moment why she was helping me at all. I wasn't suspicious, at least not on a professional level. We'd been through too much together for me to believe she could pose that kind of threat. But I still couldn't fully understand why she had come.
I decided that, if she had asked for my help in like circumstances, I would have offered it. Because it was the right thing to do. Because I cared enough about her. Because I wanted someone who could depend on me. Maybe it was the same for her.
I thought a little more. She hadn't asked me what it was like to see Midori, what it was like between us. I thought I understood why she hadn't, and I had no idea what I would say if she did. Well, we'd have time to talk about all that when Yamaoto was done. Right now it was a distraction.
'I assume I'll need some sort of reference when I go there tonight,' she said. 'Have you thought about that?'
I was ahead of her on this one, and had already worked it out with Tatsu. 'It's taken care of,' I said. 'They had a French woman working there two years ago, Valérie Silbert. She lives in Paris now. You met her at a club, she told you about Whispers. You came by to check it out. If it looks promising and they can help you with the visa, you're ready to give it a try.'
'You want me to go in with that? That's the thinnest cover I've ever heard.'
'It's good enough. My contact in Japanese intelligence got the Paris address, but said he couldn't get a phone number without more digging. If he couldn't get it, no one can.'
'What if they already have the number? They might have stayed in touch.'
'Maybe. But no one's going to try to contact the woman on such short notice, anyway. And even if they did, who's to say she didn't talk to you one night at a club? I doubt she'd remember herself. Look, even if anyone were inclined to contact her, this thing will be done long before. Thirty-six hours from now, give or take, that's it.'
'They'll probably want to see identification. A passport.'
Shit, I hadn't thought of that. Too much had been happening.
'You're not traveling under your own name, are you?'
'No.'
'French passport? French pocket litter?'
'Yes.'
I wanted to ask, Then why did you bring it up?
Instead I said, 'We're good to go, then.'
'But you didn't think of it. It makes me wonder what else you're missing.'
I glanced over at her and said, 'You want to tell me what's really bugging you?'
There was another pause. She said, 'This whole situation.'
Yeah, me too, I wanted to say. Instead I asked, 'Have you got a place to stay? Hotel?'
'Not yet. I barely had time to make it to the airport.'
Even cranky as she was, I wanted her to stay with me, but operationally it would be safer for her to stay somewhere else. On the other hand, I didn't want her to think I didn't want her. On the other other hand…
Jesus. I couldn't take much more of this.
'I'm at the Hilton, in Shinjuku,' I said. 'It's not La Florida, but it'll do. You're welcome to stay with me, if you like.'
There was a pause. She said, 'I think it's better if I stay somewhere else.'
I might have asked, Better, why? Is this personal, or operational? But it seemed better to let it alone.
'Tell me about your cover,' I said, 'and I'll make a reservation for you somewhere appropriate.'
She was quiet for a moment, imagining. Then she said, 'I live in Paris. My philandering husband died recently, leaving me with nothing but debts. I need a way to make money, and I want to get away from everything connected with my old life, do something exciting, have an adventure. When I heard about Whispers, it sounded like exactly what I needed.'
I didn't have to ask her about the details. I'd seen her in action before and knew that soon enough all the lies would be carefully thought through and intricately connected.