A Clean Kill in Tokyo

route.
    Midori was safely ensconced in the music section of the nearby Spiral Building on Aoyama-dori, close enough to meet Bulfinch quickly if necessary but far enough to be safe if things got hairy. She had called Bulfinch less than an hour earlier to arrange things. Most likely he was a legitimate reporter and would come to the meeting alone, but I saw no advantage in giving him time to deploy additional forces if I was mistaken.
    Bulfinch was easy to spot as he approached the restaurant, the same tall, thin guy in wireless glasses I had seen on the train. He had a long stride and an erect, confident posture, and again struck me as somehow aristocratic. He was wearing jeans and tennis shoes, dressed up with a blue blazer. He crossed the patio and stepped inside the restaurant proper, pausing to look right, then left, searching for Midori. His eyes passed over me without recognition.
    He wandered back in the direction of the restroom, presumably checking the separate dining space in the back of the building. I knew he’d be back in a moment, and used the time to watch the street a little longer. He’d been followed at Alfie, and it was possible he was being followed now.
    The street was still empty when Bulfinch returned to the front of the restaurant a minute later. His eyes swept the space again. When they were pointed in my direction, I said quietly, “Mr. Bulfinch.”
    He looked at me for a second before saying, “Do I know you?”
    “I’m a friend of Midori Kawamura. She asked me to come on her behalf.”
    “Where is she?”
    “She’s in danger right now. She needs to be careful.”
    “Is she coming?”
    “That depends.”
    “On what?”
    “On whether I decide it’s safe.”
    “Who are you?”
    “As I said, a friend, interested in the same thing you are.”
    “Which is?”
    I looked at him through my shades. “The disk.”
    He paused before saying, “I don’t know about a disk.”
    Right.
“You were expecting Midori’s father to deliver you a disk when he died on the Yamanote line three weeks ago. He didn’t have it with him, so you followed up with Midori after her performance at Alfie the following Friday. You met her in the Starbucks on Gaienhigashi-dori, near Almond in Roppongi. That’s where you told her about the disk, because you hoped she might have it. You wouldn’t tell her what’s on the disk because you were afraid doing so would compromise her. Though you had already compromised her by showing up at Alfie, because you were followed. All of which will be sufficient, I hope, to establish my bona fides.”
    He made no move to sit. “You could have learned most of that without Midori telling you, and filled in the gaps by educated guessing—especially if you were the one following me.”
    I shrugged. “And then I imitated her voice and called you an hour ago?”
    He hesitated, then walked over and sat, his back straight and his hands on the table. “All right. What can you tell me?”
    “I was going to ask you the same question.”
    “Look, I’m a journalist. Do you have information for me?”
    “I need to know what’s on that disk.”
    “You keep talking about a disk.”
    “Mr. Bulfinch,” I said, focusing for an instant on the street, which was still empty, “the people who want that disk think Midori has it, and they’re more than willing to kill her to retrieve it. Your meeting her at Alfie while you were being watched is very likely what put her in danger. So let’s stop fucking around, okay?”
    He took off his glasses and sighed. “Assuming for a moment there is a disk, I don’t see how knowledge of what’s on it would help Midori.”
    “You say you’re a journalist. I assume you’d be interested in publishing the hypothetical disk’s contents?”
    “You could assume that, yes.”
    “And I would also assume certain people would want to prevent that publication?”
    “That would also be a safe assumption.”
    “Okay, then. It’s the threat of publication that’s making these people target Midori. Once the contents of the disk are published, Midori would no longer be a threat, is that right?”
    “What you’re saying makes sense.”
    “Then it seems we want the same thing. We both want the contents of the disk published.”
    He shifted in his seat. “I see your point. But I’m not going to be comfortable talking about this unless I see Midori.”
    I considered for a moment. “Are you carrying a mobile phone?”
    “Yes.”
    “Show it to