Hard Rain

problems."
    He was silent for a moment, then shrugged and said, "He was not a good
    man."
    Was this his way of telling me he knew I did Holtzer but didn't care?
    If so, what was he going to ask in return?
    "How did you hear about all this?" I asked.
    He looked down at the table, then back at me. "Some of Mr. Holtzer's
    associates from the CIA's station in Tokyo contacted the Metropolitan
    Police Force. They were less concerned about the fact of his death
    than they were about the manner of it. They seem to believe you killed
    him."
    I said nothing.
    "They wanted the assistance of the Metropolitan Police Force in
    locating you," he went on. "My superiors informed me that I was to
    offer full cooperation."
    "Why are they coming to you for help?"
    "I suspect that the Agency has been tasked with trying to eliminate
    some of the corruption that is paralyzing Japan's economy. The United
    States is concerned that if the situation worsens, Japan's finances
    could collapse. A ripple effect, and certainly a global recession,
    would follow."
    I understood Uncle Sam's interest. Everyone knew the politicians were
    focused more on ensuring that they got their share of graft from rigged
    public works and jakuza payoffs than they were on resuscitating a dying
    economy. You could smell the rot from afar.
    I took another sip of the Dalmore. "Why do you suppose they'd be
    interested in me?"
    He shrugged. "Perhaps revenge. Perhaps as part of some anti
    corruption effort. After all, we know Holtzer was issuing intelligence
    reports identifying you as the "natural causes" assassin behind the
    deaths of so many Japanese whistle-blowers and reformers. Perhaps
    both."
    Just like Holtzer, I thought. Getting credit for the intelligence
    reports while using the subject for his own ends." I remembered how he
    had looked when I left him slumped and lifeless in his rent-a-car in
    that suburban Virginia parking garage, and I smiled.
    "You don't seem terribly concerned," Tatsu said.
    I shrugged. "Of course I'm concerned. What did you tell them?"
    "That, so far as I knew, you were dead."
    Here it comes, then. "That was good of you."
    He smiled slightiy, and I saw a bit of the wily, subversive bastard I
    had liked so much in Vietnam, where we had met when he was seconded
    there by one of the precursors of the Keisatsucho.
    "Not so good, really. We're old friends, after all. Friends should
    help each other from time to time, don't you agree?"
    He knew I owed him. I owed him just for letting me go after I'd
    ambushed Holtzer outside the naval base at Yokosuka, despite all the
    years he'd spent trying to ferret me out previously. Now he was
    putting the Agency off my scent, and I owed him for that, too.
    The debts were only part of it, of course. There was also an implicit
    threat. But Tatsu had a soft spot for me that kept him from being too
    direct. Otherwise, he would have dispensed with all the win-win, we're
    old pals bullshit and would have just told me that if I didn't
    cooperate he'd share my current name and address with my old friends at
    Christians In Action. Which he could very easily do.
    "I thought you wanted me to retire," I said again, knowing I'd already
    lost.
    He reached into his breast pocket and took out a manila envelope.
    Placed it on the table between us.
    "This is a very important job, Rain-san," he said. "I wouldn't ask for
    this favor if it weren't."
    I knew what I would find in the envelope. A name. A photograph.
    Locations of work and residence. Known vulnerabilities. The
    insistence on the appearance of 'natural causes' would be implicit, or
    delivered orally.
    I made no move to touch the envelope. "There's one thing I need from
    you before I can agree to any of this," I told him.
    He nodded. "You want to know how I found you."
    "Correct."
    He sighed. "If I share that information with you, what would stop you
    from disappearing again, even more effectively this time?"
    "Probably nothing. On the other hand, if you don't tell me, there's no
    possibility that I would be willing to work with you on whatever you've
    got in that envelope. It's up to you."
    He took his time, as though pondering the pros and cons, but Tatsu
    always thinks several moves ahead and I knew he would have anticipated
    this. The hesitation was theater, designed to convince me afterward
    that I had won something valuable.
    "Customs Authority records," he said finally.
    I wasn't particularly surprised. I had known there was some risk that
    Tatsu would learn